Kenny has an unwavering philosophy about my handbag. He doesn’t go in there. Ever. He’ll stand right next to my purse and announce “I need the checkbook,” and no amount of cajoling, stated permission, or exasperated replies on my part to “just get in there and get it” will persuade him to stick his hand in there.
He feels the same way about my closet.
Women’s closets, he informs me, are personal, with everything organized “just so,” the way a woman wants it, and a man would have to be fundamentally insane to go in there and start handling stuff or moving it around.
So last weekend, when I asked him to add an additional shelf inside my closet, he replied, “Only if you move your clothes out of the way. And all your shoes.” I tried every argument I could think of to convince him that this task was unnecessary, but he wasn’t budging. Fine. Out it all came. As I laid an entire walk-in closet full of clothes across the king-size bed, I learned that while women’s closets are forbidden territory, the bed is everybody’s game.
Hubs began to pick through the stacks, holding up item after item, saying “I like this. Why don’t you wear this?” over and over again, until it began to feel like a Hindu mantra and he started to wonder why he’s believed for years that all I owned was two pairs of black slacks and three pairs of yoga pants. I couldn’t tell him that my closet was living a life I no longer had. It appeared to be time for some serious revamping.
With my new shelf installed and Hubs shooed out the door for a blissful afternoon of uninterrupted televised sports, I began to sort, vowing to eliminate anything that no longer fit my body, my life, or (ouch) my age. Buh-bye to the following:
1. Anything that doesn’t fit. I’m talking about the body I have right now, today. Not the body I’m going to have after I lose the same 10 pounds I’ve been working on since 1989. Not the body I’m going to have once I start working out again, someday. This body, right now.
2. Stilettos. Red patent, 4 1/2″ heels, pointed toe. Hubs immediately zeroed in on those, with a big grin, underneath a sweater pile. But who am I kidding? I have Parkinson’s. I’ve fallen off my Reeboks. I finally decided to just toss them in Hubs’ closet for trips down memory lane.
3. Anything that looks better on my DIL than on me. If I’m unsure about something in my closet, I have my 26-year-old daughter-in-law try it on. Then I try it on me. If it’s obvious to my 6-year-old grandson that it looks better on Mommy than on Grandma, and was clearly designed for a body whose breasts are still up near her clavicles, and whose butt is not yet showing the effects of gravity or an expired gym membership, DIL gets to take it home.
4. Cowboy boots. Filed in the “What the hell was I thinking?” section of my closet. I don’t live on a ranch, ride horses, or farm. Kind of like walking down the street in a wetsuit when you’ve never been in the water.
5. One-piece Miracle swimsuit, “guaranteed to make you look 10 pounds thinner.” Miracle, my ass. When you stuff a size 10 body into a size 8 piece of flesh-crushing lycra, you get the swimsuit version of muffin top, with fat squishing out like errant toothpaste over the top and under the butt cheeks. Lesson learned. No item of clothing can make fat disappear like a Las Vegas bar trick. Cramming it into one area is just going to shove it out somewhere else.
6. Trendy jeans for a body I don’t have. Low-rise jeans on a woman with a long waist guarantees a porno peek down your backside every time you bend over or squat down, and since the world does not need to see another 57-year-old butt crack, I’m retiring these. Ditto for my beloved boyfriend jeans, with the comfy, slouchy fit, that caused Kenny to remark, “I’m surprised that a woman who cares as much about how she looks as you do would wear those jeans.” Boom. And gone.
7. Palazzo-style jumpsuit. Recently purchased, surprisingly flattering, and stupidly expensive, but never worn because it makes me feel like a bleached Donna Summer, looking for a disco ball and a karaoke machine for a slightly drunken wailing of “Last Dance.” The problem with living through a trend the first time is that it feels costumey the second time.
8. Spandex dress. Super hot when Kenny and I were first together, I was 15 pounds thinner, and we were…well, dating. Dinner, dancing, foreplay. All that dating entails when you’re falling in love and the other person’s breathing fascinates you. Now a blissful day together is spent working on the house or cleaning up the yard, and nothing screams “I’m trying to look younger, but now I just look ridiculous” than a middle-aged woman topping her arborvitaes in a spandex dress.
9. Faux accessories. I’m talking mostly handbags here. Knockoffs may suit the budget and fashion needs of the 20-something set, but by the time you’re 50+, they seem a bit like we’re trying too hard to pretend to be something we’re not. I buy the best I can afford, and leave the pretend labels to the young.
10. Maxi dresses. I have two. I’ve never worn either one. By this age, we pretty much know what our best features are and what body parts we should be flashing. Maxi dresses look best on tall, willowy-thin women with toned arms. I’m 5’3″ and curvy, my legs are my best feature, but my arms could use a few weeks with a Shake Weight. Maxi dresses hide my legs and show off my jiggly guns, and unless I’m in 4″ platforms (see #2), make me look like an Amish hobbit.
So now my closet is beautifully organized, with two pairs of black slacks and three pairs of yoga pants. Nordstrom is having a sale. I’m going in.
Kenny is a wise man to stay out of your purse/closet. And like you, I recently did a closet purge–it was incredibly liberating! Not to mention sobering.
Love love love this!!! (still laughing)
omg, this made me laugh so hard. Seriously. I feel you.
However, my mom bought a pair of really cute cowboy boots recently and rocks them. I kind of want a pair now, so I say hold onto those!
Hahaha!
I need you to come organize my closet for me. Or I could just save a lot of time, and dump everything but my favorite jeans on the way to the Nordstrom sale.
My husband has never learned the “stay out of your wife’s closet” rule. Maybe I should send this post to him.
I’m with you on the maxi dresses – I try every summer, and every summer I end up wearing them around the house like a muumuu.
…’when you’re falling in love and the other person’s breathing fascinates you’ – absolutely cracked me up! On a recent snow day, I cleaned out a section of my closet that hadn’t been touched in years. While sorting things out, I spent a lot of time either shaking my head & wondering what I’d been thinking, or laughing, or tearing up because I used to be able to wear this or that and now can’t. Now I know why I don’t do this chore more often – it’s too traumatic! :)
Organizing closets is the bane of my existence. The true low point. Thanks for the tips : ) And they were hilarious
That sounds like my closet. But, since I’ve been trying to lose “those last 10 pounds” for more than a few years now, I’ve got a lot of things in there that *just* don’t fit.
If I cleared everything out, I’d have two pair of blue jeans, my yoga pants, a sweater dress, and several tunics. In other words, comfy and stretchy.
And I’m still laughing about the swimsuit. I think the only women those work for are the ones who don’t have anything to miraculously hold in.
Too funny Vikki! I know it sometimes hurt to say good-bye to friends in the closet, at least for me!
So funny about the wallet and the closet. Must be part of that Y chromosome.
I have a pair of cowboy boots I bought in college and haven’t worn since. Ya think I should ditch them?
Laughing at “porno peek.”
Absolutely hilarious. I especially loved the one piece miracle suit.
This is perfect! I’m going through EVERYTHING, including dresser drawers I haven’t looked in for years, because I’m getting new carpeting at my house next week. Loved this!
OH yes, the cowboy boots! I think I can get rid of them, but I am still convinced I’m going to lose that bloody ten pounds!!
An Amish Hobbit. That could be the funniest line I ever read!!! And we think alike. I just did a piece on shopping for a swimsuit that featured a very similar take on the 3-ply Lycra Miracle Suit! You’ll appreciate it! It’s called: Oh Crap, I Forgot to Diet for Swimsuit Season! http://royalthighness.com/crap-forgot-diet-swimsuit-season/
I love how brutally honest you were about the items in your closet. I need you to come over to my house and stage an intervention.
I for one LOVED you in your boyfriend jeans!
Sooo funny – I love the bathing suit one the best. I too tried one of those Miracle swimsuits and you are SO right, it just squishes all the fat out the sides, up the top and down under the butt. Not a flattering look for beach wear, at all. And, the boyfriend jeans? I loved them, but my hairdresser said, “Did you lose weight because your jeans look really baggy?” which I knew wasn’t a compliment by the look on his face. So, now I only wear them at home, not when going out.
I love this post! So much honest truth, and you’re funny without being self-depricating. Well said!
The hardest thing for me to give up would have been those red shoes. I’d give my right arm to be able to wear (and balance in) pointy toed stilettos – particularly if they produced a little toe cleavage.
Sounds like mine. U make me laugh so hard I think I’ve lost my ass!!
You have a walk-in closet? And it was full?
I bow to you.
And yea, the Miracle bathing suit. It doesn’t work. I know because I have TWO of them.
This is truly the story of my closet too!! Stilettos, low rise jeans, size 6-8 dresses ….*sigh*
I have my clothes divided into the categories you described: fit me now, fit me after some time in the gym, fit me once I’ve lost 10 pounds …. time to get real and get rid of a bunch!
There’s something to be said for embracing where you are and just who you are. You are fabulous and if I know enough of you and your wardrobe, it will always be super chic! :)
Oh, Vikki, you make me laugh! I’ve just finished downsizing. My closet, sadly, not me. Sigh. The first items on my out-she-goes list were those things that simply don’t fit, no matter how much baby-oil I apply. Liked pouring 10 pounds of cottage into a five-pound bag. Yep. Doesn’t work.
P.S. I’d be interested in those cowboy boots . . .
HAHAH once again, one hilarious awesome post, Vikki. My husband too easily goes into my purse and then asks stupid questions when he finds tampons, like “oh, you’re bleeding?” Um no dick. Those are for emergencies. Also the pounds. And the closet. Some of my favorite clothes are from 1989. That’s wrong?
My cat just walked across the computer and erased my whole comment!!! I need to downsize my closet again…I am kidding myself if I think I am going to wear some of it every again. I have a 15 year old daughter who raids my closet on a regular basis…I’m sure she’d like to permanently take some of it off my hands. Unfortunately usually it’s the stuff I want to keep. Bathing suits are my nemesis. I haven’t worn one in years.
my beloved boyfriend jeans, with the comfy, slouchy fit
You know what – I spent 2 years in those and when I binned them everyone told me how awful they had made me look. It’s a bit late then, people!!
I have boxes in my cupboard, one for every size I will be when I lose this excess weight . . . One day.
Fab post.