The clothes that won't let go

A conversation on Facebook recently echoed more than one similar discussion with clients. “I struggle to get rid of clothes… how do I decide?” In fact, I probably hear this question more than almost any other. ("How do I stop drowning in paperwork" is probably the one that comes closest.)

I might add that I’m very well qualified to talk about this. Not only am I pretty good at decluttering clothes, but I’m also very experienced at acquiring them. I can never resist a charity shop. I’ve been all sizes from a (fairly) small 12 to a (very) large 16 in my adult life. I’ve bought for purpose, for comfort, for distraction, for reward, and out of sheer blind panic. I’ve moved house and been subject to excruciating embarrassment at the number of items being hauled around by the long-suffering removal men. So I’ve been there and bought many t-shirts – in lots of different sizes.

There are countless reasons / excuses / validations for this challenge (and I'll likely write about more of them soon), but here's one of the most common. Does it ring bells for you, too?

I want to be able to wear it again. I’ve put on weight over the last six months / year / five years / ten years; I want to lose the weight, then I’ll be able to wear it again, so I must keep it.

I've lost count of the number of times I've heard this argument, but one particular episode sticks in my mind. The lady in question had been through a pretty terrible time with illness, divorce, breakdown – the whole nine yards. More to the point, she’d told me many times that she had no wish to take any part in the life that had been left behind with the ex-husband. So we looked at these clothes, which were very definitely part of that ‘old life’. I asked her to imagine herself at the size she was when she wore them, and then whether she’d wear those clothes again on reaching that size. There was a pause as she visualised it, and then she burst out “Of course I wouldn’t wear them again. I don’t even like the colours. Or the fabrics. Or the occasions they were for…” She’d become so fixated on the fact that she wanted to be a size 12 again (or whatever it was) that she’d equated the size of the clothes with their suitability. Suddenly she realised that their style would be completely redundant in her new life, and as such they were no use to her – no matter what her size. Needless to say, the next time I saw her, the gaps in her wardrobe had been filled with comfortable linens, cottons and softness, in colours that she loved – and which were nothing like the items she’d given away.

I’ve done the same thing. In an earlier life (which for me finished in around 2004, which was the last time I worked in a formal office environment), I loved my sharp suits. It’s a style that looks good on me – being curvy, a tailored look is flattering – and I did have some really lovely outfits that were perfect for a senior office management / PA type role. But was I ever going to wear them again?

These days, my decluttering ‘uniform’ has to be practical: usually jeans and a t-shirt or sweater. If I go to help a client with their computer, it’s a bit smarter, but still nowhere near formal. If I attend a business networking event, it’s definitely ‘smart casual’, not ‘intimidating power dressing’. My leisure life involves the local theatre, music-making, long walks, photography, relaxed meetings with friends. Sharp suits? No. So out they went. I now possess one black jacket and trousers (in case of funerals) and one rather fine red Jacques Vert skirt suit (charity shop bargain)… just in case. (It's beautiful and a wonderful colour, but think I’ve worn it once. There’s every possibility of it being decluttered in the next major cull.)

And what about size? As I say, I know all about this, too. On my last really drastic declutter, when I was about half a stone off my target weight (and with the help of a wonderful style consultant), I retained just a few items (about 8, I think) that were very nearly the right size but not quite; realistically attainable; and (most importantly) still matched my lifestyle. (I called it my ‘keep and hope’ pile.) To my delight, I did manage to fit into them all within a few months; but guess what? Even some of those went to charity or ebay in the end, as when I reached the size that matched the clothes, I realised that my style / shape / attitude had shifted still further – and they weren’t quite “me” any more. (I don't know about you, but my definition of "me" changes with the passage of time.)

Also consider: exactly how long have these clothes been in your wardrobe waiting for that magical weight loss? If it's a few weeks or months, that's fair enough. But it's very common for people to tell me that a dress or a pair of jeans was last worn, say, twenty or thirty years ago. Not only do fashions change (would you wear your 1980s shoulder-pads - or lycra - today?) but would you truthfully want to be the weight you were when you were (say) eighteen? Healthy, toned slimness is wonderful to see at any age; a desperate striving for "my younger weight" may well not be desirable. I know that my ideal weight at 54 is most definitely at least ten pounds or a stone heavier than it was when I was 24; any less and I start to look decidedly gaunt.

It’s also worth saying that while I have occasionally experienced an episode of “that’s a shame – that skirt would have looked nice on me now”, it’s no more than a mild regret. It's not a traumatic moment worthy of Sarah Bernhardt. In today’s world, we are drowning in choice of shapes, colours and fabrics, and finding an appropriate substitute for the occasion is seldom the cause of deep pain - more a cursory shrug and an “oh, well”. The decision lies between the pleasure of an uncluttered, functional, flattering, enjoyable wardrobe, and the moderate discomfort of realising that an item (out of, let's be honest, dozens of the things) might just have "come in useful" after all. You make the choice.

Your wardrobe needs to reflect your everyday style. We all have a few seldom-worn items: serious posh frocks, funeral formality, fancy dress party and so on. Fine.  But the other 90%? They need to suit the size you are now, or at least very close to it (come on, be honest); but (more importantly) the life you are living today.

Don’t buy for the life you want until you’re living it. Think tomorrow morning, or next week, or the ‘do’ you’re attending next month, or (at the most) next season. Beyond that, who knows what may have changed in your life?

(A brief aside on the above question: I’m presently reading How to be Free, a splendidly entertaining, anarchic and provocative book by the redoubtable Tom Hodgkinson, from which I could pinch soundbites by the dozen. I especially like “We all know the Jewish joke: How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans.”)

What are your greatest challenges when you consider getting rid of clothes? Post a comment, ask a question, and I’ll help. Or if you’re ready to bring your wardrobe (or any other part of your life) under control, and create it for today, rather than for the past or the future, get in touch - and we’ll get cracking!

The organiser declutters herself

I know, I know: happy new year, make your resolutions. I have plenty of my own - and you may be surprised (or not, depending on how well you know me) to learn that they include some serious decluttering and organising of my own.

In this case, specifically, my wardrobe. As a result of fluctuating constantly across three dress sizes over most of my adult life, I've got three times as many clothes as I could possibly want. Things were crushed together; I was depressed by the presence of so much I couldn't wear; so I have spent a bit of the 'quiet time' between Christmas and New Year (with help from my darling husband) doing some serious weeding.

There is a pile to keep - clothes that I do not fit into at present - but we're not talking a need to lose three stone here, but a matter of a few pounds. There's the stuff for charity shop and for selling - in both cases, these have been a matter of finally accepting that even when I'm closer to the size I want to be, I will never again be the size that I was twenty years ago, and it's foolish to pretend otherwise (it wouldn't suit me, anyway!). And, given the panic that is induced by being dissatisfied with one's shape, there are a fair few items - mostly off bargain rails and charity shops - that come under the heading of "what the **** were you thinking when you bought this?"

The 'wear' pile has gone back in the wardrobes, with more room to hang neatly, and easier to see. The 'keep' pile - those clothes that I know I have a realistic chance of getting into again - are stored away ready for that day (which will come; I've done it before, I can do it again). The 'sell' pile is ready to take to a local 'good-as-new' shop - I haven't the time or energy to ebay them; and the charity shop will be restocked hugely in the new year.

You see, I am great at advising other people about this stuff, what it means, why we accumulate it, how they might be able to change these habits. Am I perfect myself? Far from it, as you can see. But then, you probably wouldn't want a paragon of perfection, never a hair (or a foot) out of place, helping you with your overload of 'stuff', would you? This is all about real life; it happens; and as long as we deal with it before it drowns us, and don't beat ourselves up for it, it's not the end of the world.

As it happens, I truly believe that this has been an educational process for me. One of my recent clients proudly showed me her wardrobe after she'd cleared out (without my help) a huge amount, and I was stunned by how much she'd managed to achieve. (We'd worked together in other areas of the house, other furniture usage and purchase, and from that process she'd 'got it' - and was able to progress further on her own. That's the way it should be.)

The point is, she was an inspiration for me. I looked at her newly cleared wardrobe - with the same delight as I'd surveyed her kitchen after we'd worked together to sort that out - and thought I want that for myself. I spend so much time concentrating on the help that I can give to others - practical, motivational, physical, inspirational - that I myself sometimes get left out of the equation. More than once I've come home having left a very happy client behind, and thought I really could use one of my own organising colleagues to help me...


Be that as it may: it's made a big difference to me. If you feel that you could benefit from a major clear-out - whether it be your wardrobe, desk, kitchen, garden shed, attic or whatever - but simply don't have the strength to do it alone: call me. Not only can I provide an extra pair of hands, ditto pair of eyes, motivation, ideas, suggestions - I've also been there myself. I know how it feels to let go of something to make room in your home, your heart or your head for something else. I know how it feels to look at the problem and feel you don't know where to start. That's why I can help you.

So - if your new year's resolution for 2012 is to 'get it sorted' - call me. And we'll get on that journey together.

Happy New Year!

Stuff and storage

One of my clients sent me a link she thought I might be interested in. Published on the BBC website, it expresses the concerns about the 'craze' for self-storage.

People are leaving their possessions in self-storage warehouses for longer than ever. But why are people paying to store stuff they rarely use? It's a monument to our acquisitive society - the brightly lit shed on the edge of town offering "storage solutions".

This rang lots of bells. I've written on this topic in this blog before, last April. Everything I said there still holds true: I still firmly believe that, used appropriately, storage options are a valid way of helping us to deal with 'stuff' - as long as it's with a realistic approach. When either the practical or the emotional considerations mean we need time and space - physical and mental - then this is a sensible option; when we simply don't have the room in our living quarters to accommodate items that we have valid reasons for keeping, renting storage space is no different from renting a garage to keep your car safe.

However, this article flags up very correctly the other side of the story - and the reason for it being an increasing pitfall in modern consumer society. My fellow apdo-uk member, Cory Cook, is quoted in the article:

"More and more stuff comes in and it's not going out. I want to say it's a throwout society, but it's not the case because people are keeping their things around."

Exactly so. We might be living in a recession, but that doesn't mean we are buying less 'stuff'. On the contrary: my observation of the 'stuff' that I help my clients to sort through is that we're more likely to buy more items of a lower value. It can give a lift out of the doldrums induced by dismal economic times, terrible summer weather and back-to-work blues: hey, look, I've got a new toy! And if that 'toy' - whether an electronic gadget, an item of clothing, a kitchen gizmo or a DVD - has been bought at a cheaper price than we might previously have afforded, it's often less likely to last than its slightly pricier alternative.

We all know the scenario in the wardrobe: given the choice, would you spend the same amount of money on one well-made, classy item, or on ten things from the sale rail? And before you ask, I'm as guilty of this sin as the next woman. The obvious result - after the adrenalin rush of I've got a new toy - is that, at a later date, the multiple items are not only more likely to be thrown away (how many of your favourite clothes came from the sale rail?) but there are more of them to be disposed of - when you eventually get round to it.

The matter of whether we store unneeded things or not is a worry; the roots of why this kind of storage is necessary at all is a far greater cause for concern. It's usually because we've bought it in the first place... and we are slaughtered with guilt about how much stuff we have. If we do manage to get rid of it, it feels like a waste. "I couldn't possibly throw that away - it cost me good money." Disposing of the item is like admitting that we got it wrong in the first place.

It's also true to say that there is a lot of association with our identities: we are, often, our stuff. In the same article, this valuable observation is made by Oliver James, author of the superbly-named Affluenza:

Our identity has increasingly become associated with products, and not just the mortgage and the car, but smaller items. "We've confused who we are with what we have," he says. It explains why we're so reluctant to throw things away. "We feel it might come in handy one day. It feels like it's a little part of yourself even though it's just tat. You wouldn't want to throw yourself away, would you?"

This isn't a new scenario. During a recent holiday in France, I visited an eighteenth-century château, complete with the authentic furnishings, décor and bric-a-brac of that era. The Victorians were just as bad: their homes were full of clutter and dust-traps. However, these indulgences were the province of the wealthy. Now, with the help of the high street and the pound-shop, we can all surround ourselves with 'stuff'. And we do.

So: how do we deal with it?

• We accept the purchasing mistakes we've made in the past, and put it down to experience
• We pass on the stuff we really no longer need (or, in some cases, even like) to benefit somebody else - and refrain from fretting about the money we paid out for it
• We use the learning when we next shop for something - and we shop mindfully, not emotionally
• We take a long hard look at the space we are paying for - whether it's in the context of the house we're renting or mortgaged for, or external space - and ask ourselves whether it's genuinely worth it

We might not get it right all the time. I certainly don't.

But it's well worth a try.

Summer clothes: the agony and the ecstasy

I was delighted to be asked by Ceri Wheeldon of the excellent Fab After Fifty website to contribute a blog posting, with the coming summer focusing our attention on the wardrobe. It turned into a rather more personal experience than I was expecting - and proves the point that declutterers don't always practice what we preach!

You'll find the article here. I hope it's a useful insight - and if you haven't come across Fab After Fifty before, make friends with them too!