For years, I've stared and stared in my closet, and wanted to make it kinda fabulous.
But I had no idea how.
Yee-ah. I used to actually think this was relatively organized and "clean". I was shocked when I compared this to the now. Don't you judge me! I don't have the largest closet. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have the size I do have-- heck, this is at least double the size that I've ever had anywhere.
I know some of you people have huge closets. And for that I hate you. But what I continue to be in denial about won't hurt me! My closet is fine! Except for the total disaster, it's just fine!
I can't make my closet any bigger, but I can work my buns off to purge and cleanse, can't I? I'd love to make my closet such that if a stranger were to walk in, they'd think a refined lady lived here.
And the people who really knew me, upon hearing such a thing, would spit their drinks everywhere.
I kept thinking of this quote from "Clue":
(preface, Mrs Scarlet): "Would you like to see these Yvette, they might shock you?"
"No merci. I am a lay-dee."
I kept purging and rearranging and saying to myself "I am a lay-dee" in my best bad french accent.
Not to go back to the whole small closet, big closet scenario, but if I did have a bigger closet, I'd have a specific little space for each and every "theme" of clothing, if you will. Exercise clothing and shoes? They'd have a spot. My favorite dresses 'n heels? A fancy little section. Summer clothes. . . winter clothes. . .even paint clothes. . .and so forth.
if I were to "stage" my closet (and that's not really possible, is it? We've established it's small, and the lighting in there, without windows, sucks), then I'd hold back the motherload of clothes and make it like so:
Ta da, my side! I especially love the metal basket for lacy underthings.
Ta da, Jeff's side! (sing-song voice.)
You know those fashion mags that show closets, with like, five pieces of clothing? That looks great 'n all, but, um, people live here.
People who dress really, really poorly live here.
Thus, it really looks like this.
A few things:
-Jeff and I traded sides. It just made more sense. Trust me.
-I moved every single shelf, and every single clothing bar, at very least, once.
Holy cow, I moved clothing around, trying to make it work the absolutely best for us.
-My paint clothes never looked so good stashed in a cute little milk box, and I've always wanted a hat box, even though there's no hat in there.
-I had to face the hard reality that if it was not clothing for Jeff and I, or accessories, it could not stay in here, period. End of story. If I want a non-embarrassing closet, it had to be so.
-I now have three rows of crown moulding for my heels, and I installed corner shelves for Jeff's shoes which aren't really worth looking at, but the point is---
Having nothing on the floor makes this feel so, so much cleaner. More spacious.
this is also the gateway to our attic, and my kids are very strangely obsessed with the possibilities of having an attic. I think they imagine, like, I don't know? A spooky dress form up there. A big chest filled with old and crazy things. Maybe even a treasure map.
There's nothing up there kids, except for really scratchy cotton candy. Ah well, we'll let 'em dream.
So, I love it. I feel crazy good when I walk in to dress now. It's the little things. Also, I'm trying to talk a good friend into taking over my credit card and dressing me from now on. 'Cause wow, I'm a bad dresser.
And finally, on a side note,
this was also happening this weekend. I have 10 hee-uge things on my list that I'm going to make happen-- it's going to cost a lot, it's going to be dangerous, so this is where I'll be for a while, as soon as I can get over the flu. It's kicking my butt,
and meanwhile, we have this lovely new metal furniture in the family room for everyone to come and enjoy.