I have too many clothes. I still acquire more. Yet I'm also dedicated to sustainability. All these statements are true for me and, likely, for a vast percentage of those with interests in fashion (a broad topic that goes way beyond trends, brands, designers).
Embarrasingly, I have so many that it's hard to see most of them. I live in a NYC apartment so a perfectly curated walk-in wardrobe remains a fantasy. As a result, I hang key items from the knob pulls on my dressers, which leads to yet more repetition of the same core seasonally-appropriate items. My wardrobe has effectively been turned into storage, save the space at the front and centre where I can grab and return pieces that are in semi-regular rotation.
With winter clothing drives in full force, I decided to tackle the process which has turned out to be more delightful and melancholy than I thought, a return to times past. This is an ongoing and unfinished project that I will discuss again. My primary goal? To find pieces suitable for donation for the new immigrants and poor in our neighbourhood (people who are going to need even more help in the near future, I fear). So I was looking for coats, warm clothing, items I'd bought because they were a good deal but were rarely worn as well as anything that no longer fit and/or was in good shape but would realistically never be worn again (by me). I've done this before, but probably not since Emile was born.
I've also recently lost some 30lbs or so (all the (post) baby weight, all the pandemic pounds and maybe some more) and don't want to backslide, so time for the larger sizes to find new homes. I'd like to be another 10-15 lbs lighter if possible, but that may not be attainable. While I was pregnant and breast-feeding, my wardrobe became more basic, dull and washable--front opening Boden and Gap dresses, J Crew cotton dresses etc--items, I've folded away with a slight sense of nostalgia. I loved those time of being close to my babies, even if the 6 months of morning sickness and the years of sleepness nights were hard. Truthfully, I'd do it again in an instance, but it's no longer my time and I doubt my two would be particularly happy if I did.
While searching, I inevitably found so many pieces that I thought would be staples, many unworn, some with tags, most of them way more expensive than I had remembered. In the flurry of Mayle panic buying I must have spent thousands of dollars on pretty piecces that were quickly forgotten in the years shortly afterwards when I got pregnant and became a mother.
So, this morning, as I took a break from grading, I tentatively tried on some of my old dresses and blouses. All fit, some better than before, some for the first tme although the oldest were perhaps way too small. It's an odd index of my body's changes. Dresses from perhaps 20 years ago? Too tight, mainly in the chest (chalk that up to post-baby shifts in my body). From 15 years ago? The same or maybe a little looser. The Rachel Comeys from 13 years ago (before Severin, before pregnancy)? Way looser. I'm currently 14 lbs (a full stone!) lighter than I was when I got pregnant and at about the weight I must have been at the apex of the Mayle/Lyell days--maybe slightly smaller?
Pragmatically, this has paid dividends. I can wear three pairs of practically new jeans that I bought just before the pandemic when I was around the same weight as I am now. But my trip down memory lane--of which more in a following post--has also shown me that some of my silky Mayle dresses are still werable and can be added into my rotation. Others will just have to remain souvenirs of moments that remind me of good friends, much missed these days, and the community we shared at a time of great joy but also great longing.
No comments:
Post a Comment