1) Nothing that fit appropriately - possibly due to my wearing as pajamas lounge pants a size too large because I bought them two pregnancies ago for postpartum comfort. (I finally just figured out the word for these. Yoga pants? Nope. Sweat pants? Not exactly. Hi, I'm a grown up.) Also, one of Joel's old thermal shirts that is SO BAGGY and the sleeves constantly slide down over my hands so that I can't do anything. ANYTHING. This shirt is in my wardrobe as a result of third trimester pregnancy when I hate wearing anything because it all looks stupid but alas, that would get me arrested. Note that I have not been third-trimester-pregnant for a solid seven months. So this "outfit" was what I did slept in, spent the morning in, and did yoga in today (that's how I knew they were NOT yoga pants, btw). This attire did nothing for my optimism about either my wardrobe or my figure. Or, come to think of it, my form for Downward Dog and Warrior 2.
2) Nothing was seasonally appropriate - it seemed like everything in my closet and dresser was short-sleeved for some reason. Or too dressy for everyday wear. Well, once I mentally crossed off the ill-fitting man shirts. So the clothing at my fingertips was all lame and not-right in every way.
Obviously, my next move was to go shopping on Amazon and add a ton of long-sleeved tunic tops to a new wish list titled "THINGS ELIZABETH NEEDS", not in all caps, but the drama was real.
Feeding the kids lunch has a way of grounding me though, because I'm good at finding my inner calm in the midst of songs-at-the-top-of-lungs (yes I give the "inside voices" reminder ad nauseum) and PBJ being ripped apart and devoured in the slowest, most stroke-inducingly messiest ways possible. It's a good time for pondering what's really important, which might be a less-concerning way of saying
So I came out of lunchtime realizing that my first move should be to go through my closet and purge, re-organize, and get a handle on what I actually have and need. This was a good idea because while I was ruthless and have a nice pile of clothes to sell or donate, I also spent a fair amount of time going, "Oh yeah, that!!"
As an aside, seven months post partum is a good time to wardrobe-purge, since I think you probably have a good idea how things have shifted around and spaced out, and things are in their new permanent home, barring any sudden interests in yoga and pilates (which can feel free to seize me at any time, please, btw).
It's so hard to know how to organize a closet when you first move into a place, you know? I had sweatshirts and sweaters stacked on a shelf, and tank tops/camisoles stacked on a second shelf. Everything else was hanging up. As I purged, though, I discovered a handful of sweaters that I didn't even remember I had because they were at the bottom of a stack behind my sweatshirts. Real efficient, huh?
And my hanging clothes were organized generally in color order, with long, 3/4, and short sleeved shirts in that order within color. It wasn't nearly as OCD as you're imagining. Well, maybe. But what it definitely WASN'T was user-friendly. I was missing clothing because I automatically skipped over sections of my closet when trying to decide what to wear. Too cool, too dressy, too ew.
Another factor is my staying at home full time now, which mean that a certain subset of my wardrobe isn't really needed for the professional setting anymore. Sure, I wear those things for church, but that's less than 1/14 of my time if you think about it. I doubt my dressier things need to take up prime real estate in my closet. Oh, and I'm nursing, which means a number of pieces (especially dresses) that are just dead to me until Oliver is weaned. They don't have to go out the door, necessarily, but could be rotated out to our spare closet in Oliver's room so as not to distract me from the good options on a Sunday morning.
The end result? I hung my (fewer, more appealing) clothes by season, then by color - short-sleeved clothes at the periphery on one end, then 3/4 sleeve, then heaviest long-sleeved shirts and sweaters right in front of my face. Scarves and cardigans, then pants, skirts, and finally my "aspirational" clothing (I permit myself a few "I hope I can wear this again" pieces because it's motivation, and it's also fodder for my "I can alter my own clothes!" impulsive sewing sprees. Which, no I can't. Not yet, anyway. But these are things that don't fit anyway and I would otherwise get rid of, so they make for good practice material.)
(Maybe this would change if I got the dress form I've got my eye on? Or at least if I came to believe that measuring is important. Sewing and baking, I'm telling you.)
So now I can walk right up to my closet and instantly see what I actually own that fits, that I like, and is warm enough for January. Or I could if I were seven feet tall, but the whole clothes bar height thing is something that Joel and I are working out between the two of us. We had plans for a second lower bar at some point but at the rate I keep purging clothes, one is just plenty...if I could reach it.
(Taking this photo made me acutely aware that that back wall isn't painted. I literally never notice that in real life, but looking at it via an iPhone screen? Hideous! Also can you tell how far back I had to stand to even get the top of the clothes bar in the shot? )
Yes, my wardrobe is smaller now, and you won't suddenly confuse me with a fashion plate, but I think I'll actually wear and enjoy more pieces now that I know they exist. Funny how that works. It's closely related to the practice of contentment: Sometimes the Lord provides for our needs by dropping something into our lives at the right time. But other times, and more often I might argue, He provides for our needs by resizing them, and helping us see what we already have with a little more gratitude and enjoyment.
What a relatively easy way to boost self-esteem and improve your wardrobe all in one shot, eh?
(This is mundane, I know. I'm sharing because the promise of writing it up into a blog post was a big motivation for actually DOING the dang thing!)
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