This weekend I got rid of about 20% of the crap in my closet. And it felt FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. Included in the purge: every pair of high heels that hurts my feet, anything beige, a briefcase that I hate, and pretty lace underwear that I love but is TOO SMALL. Because, really, who needs a daily reminder that your ass used to be smaller?
That crap was bringing me down. Harshing my mellow. Killing my vibe. So I got rid of it.
Also pitched (or donated):
- That misguided peplum tank top that makes me look like a chubby adult Shirley Temple.
- All the stuff I say I’m going to take to a tailor but never take to a tailor.
- Bland, boxy business attire that makes me feel like a corporate mannequin.
- Anything that doesn’t fit. Except for that one blazer.
- Four scarves I’ve had for a decade but have NEVER WORN. This means I have lovingly packed them into moving boxes THREE times…yet never worn them. Gone. Finally.
- Two pairs of beautiful ballet flats that are a half size too small and pinch my feet.
- Six purses (I know, right?!).
Having purged part of my shoe and handbag collection, nothing was off limits. I moved to the bathroom:
That designer perfume that makes me sneeze? Gone. Same for the expensive face cream that makes my face look like Exxon Valdez. Goodbye to all of the ugly make-up that any MAC or Clinique lady ever talked me into.
My precious bookshelves were next. I ditched:
- A book by a wise spiritual leader that I’ve tried to read about a hundred times but just. can’t. get. into. So much for enlightenment.
- About 50 other books.
- I did not touch my extensive collection of O Magazine back issues. Because nobody fucks with Oprah. Plus, I need those to make vision boards. Obviously.
I even cleaned out the fridge. Oh, hello butternut squash soup from four weeks ago. At least I think that’s what you are.
Four trips to the donation bin (and one to the garbage chute) later I felt soooo much better. Lighter.
I found permanent homes for the stacks of stuff that were cluttering the kitchen table…without having to Tetris them into already bulging shelves.
I made room for my high school yearbooks. And for books I wrote as a kid (complete with homemade cereal box and wallpaper covers). I’d found them on a recent visit to my mom and dad’s. Looking at them makes me smile.
I made room to actually see the lovely things I already have. I can enjoy them more when my vision isn’t cluttered with stuff I don’t even like.
Where can you create more space in your life? Your home? Your desk? Your schedule? Do it.