The Five Emotional Stages of Clearing out Your Wardrobe

 

 

 

 

Ah March, that time of the year when New Year's resolutions already seem like a distant memory. When all those hopes you had of going for runs every day and drinking green smoothies have been tossed in favour of spice bags and cans. If you're like me and have accepted the fact that you have no willpower when it comes to dieting, you begin to look at other areas of your life and wonder what you can do to feel less shit (with absolutely minimal effort). Of course! A spring clean. A new outlook on life, out with the old and in with the new, a healthy space leads to a healthy mind...and all those other 'feel good' slogans that you see printed on Pennys workout gear. What better place to start than your wardrobe. They say that a wardrobe clear out can do wonders. You throw out all your old crap and suddenly find your true sense of self as you're free from all the bad stuff that's cluttering up your life. Sounds like a wonderful, spiritual experience right? WRONG! Maybe I'm not a mindful person. Or maybe I'm just the human equivalent of Oscar the Grouch. Either way, I think we can all agree that clearing out your wardrobe can be an extremely stressful task. Here are the five emotional stages one goes through when attempting a wardrobe clear out...

 

Determination

You start of with the best intentions. You're sick of looking at a messy wardrobe and you want a fresh, new start. You have your roll of bin bags on hand and you're ready to get ruthless. You're going to get rid of every piece of crap you haven't worn in the last six months. One bag for the bin and anything that doesn't have tan or any other unidentifiable stain on it will be sent to the charity shop (because you're new-found Zen has made you care about the human race). You're ready to get stuck in and not stop until every peplum top from 2010 is out of your sight for good.

 

Confusion

About mid-way through (when your organisation technique is slowly beginning to wear thin) you're hit with that nagging confusion and begin to wonder how the hell you managed to accumulate so many clothes. Where did they all come from?! And how, despite this mass cultivation of crap, do you never seem to have anything to wear? This question is later answered as you delve deeper into the abyss and discover things which make you question your own mental stability. A metallic wrap dress with a Boohoo tag still attached to it. Purple jeans that have zips going down the side of the legs. When were these ever a thing and why on earth did you pay money for them?!

 

 

Nostalgia

After the determination has worn off and you become buried under a mountain of polyester, you begin to dig out some old gems that briefly distract you from the horror at hand. That string top you wore every day in summer 2007, your first pair of converse, numerous items of clothing that you 'borrowed' from your friends. Each one reminds you of a different period of your life, both good and band, which makes it hard to ever get rid of them. This nostalgia usually leads to you wasting at least thirty minutes trying to squeeze back into your old bodycon dresses and convincing yourself that you can't throw out those diamanté cowboy boots. Sure if you throw them away then there's no doubt you'll be invited to a Western-themed birthday party next week and you'll be absolutely raging.

 

 

 

Regret

After the nostalgia has worn away, and you finally accept the fact that you're just not fitting into those old disco pants, you begin to wonder why the hell you started this in the first place. Sitting on your bedroom floor, as mountains of clothes pile up around you, you cast your mind back to a few hours previous when you had such high hopes of getting your life together. You were so determined to get this done and, like a fool, you believed in yourself! As you look around the room, surveying the chaos that you created, you start to imagine how big the crane will be when they have to rip off the roof and lift you out after you become consumed by the mess in your cesspit of a bedroom.

 

 

Acceptance

After numerous mini-meltdowns you eventually pull yourself together and decide to power through so you can finally be rid of this horrible task. You're filling up bin bags left, right and centre and you finally start to see the mess subside. Your wardrobe becomes visible again and you start hanging and folding every item of clothing neatly and precisely. You promise yourself that you will continue doing this from now on and you will never let your wardrobe get that bad again. As you stand back and look at your newly organised wardrobe, you feel a great sense of pride and accomplishment. You remind yourself how good it feels when things are neat and in order. But who are you kidding? Although this provides you with a mild sense of satisfaction, you know deep down that you have no real intentions of keeping things tidy and those bin bags full of clothes will probably sit on the landing for the next two months until you finally get rid of them...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Things In Life That Don't Bother Me

I am not a perfectionist in any sense of the word. For the most part, I consider myself a fairly laid back and easy going person who takes things as they come. Often, I find myself looking at other people and thinking 'Wow, they really seem to have their life together. They always look so stylish and neat and I bet they smell good all the time' In the age of social media, I suppose it's inevitable that we will end up comparing ourselves to others at some stage. Whether it be fashion, fitness, makeup, you wonder how some people manage to get it so right all the time and you always just seem to end up getting it wrong. Despite the occasional existential crisis which leads me to believe that I am the human embodiment of shite, I feel that I have managed to come to terms with the fact that I will never be perfect and there are some things in life that I just do not care about...

Uneven eyeliner

I am aware that this is something that drives other people crazy but eyeliner is not something that I have any passion for at all. I have nothing but admiration for you talented individuals out there that can create eye makeup akin to the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, but my own skills are severely lacking in this department. Don't get me wrong, I have tried so hard. I've used so many different eyeliners and watched an infinite amount of tutorials but I just cannot seem to master the art of the eyeliner flick. In the past, this is something which would have sent me into a furious rage while doing my makeup, with me throwing myself on the bed and refusing to leave the house, but nowadays I've become more accepting of my wonky flicks. Anything that remotely resembles a line is good enough for me.

Dog hair on my clothes

Perhaps I have been so blinded by love for my dogs that their hair has become invisible to my naked eye. Yes I know that they shed and I am aware that I leave the house most days looking like Bigfoot but it just doesn't bother me anymore. Some may read this with complete disgust but if you have a pet that sheds then you'll know that being covered in hair is simply unavoidable. I know that there are ways of getting rid of it (I do own a lint roller, I'm not a complete savage) but sometimes I just cannot be arsed. Unless I'm going 'out out', a quick brush over with my hands is about as much effort as I can muster. I know people probably look at me in public and think that I'm a filthy animal but when I see another person with pet hair on their leggings I have nothing but understanding towards those who bear the emblem of their furry children.

Broken nails

In the past year or so, I have found myself caught in the vicious cycle of acrylic nails. You know, when you decide to get your nails done once and then your natural nails become so damaged and revolting that you are forced to continue getting acrylics again and again. I love having my nails done. It may sound stupid but when you have your nails done you feel like you have at least one area of your life in order. When you have your nails done, it gives you an undeniable confidence that allows you to live your life without having to worry about hiding your nail-bitten sausage fingers away from the world. I have my nails done fairly regularly but, as I work in a shop, I usually end up breaking at least one within a few days. I know that I could go back to the salon and have them repair the broken nail but jaysus, the effort... This is something that other people probably can't stand but I have grown to accept my broken nails and view them not as an inconvenience but more so a useful tool which provides easy access to pressing buttons and picking my nose. The same goes for toenails. Often, I forget I even have toenails. During the winter months my neglected  trotters are hidden away in boots and runners and it isn't until I want to wear an open toed shoe that I realise my toenails are so long I could probably climb trees with those bad boys.

Wearing the same pair of jeans for an unhygienic length of time

If you are a person who's body parts require a different array of sizes, then you will know that finding a pair of jeans that actually fits you properly is like finding Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket. Everyone's body shape is different and despite the wide variety of jeans that are on the market these days, (seriously, does anyone really understand what 'boyfriend jeans' are?) it can be a strenuous task to find a pair of jeans that fits you just right. When you do manage to hit the jackpot and discover the jeans that are right for you, they become your go-to fashion item for every occasion. I suppose I am a bit of a hoarder when it comes to clothes and I will wear things until they are threadbare rags. If I find clothes that I like, I will keep them for years and will continue to wear them despite looking like an extra in Angela's Ashes. A good pair of jeans become your saviour when you can't find anything to wear. You know that your old reliable jeans will always be there to be paired with a 'nice top' on those nights when you have half a bottle of wine in you and decide on a last minute trip to the pub. I have no shame in admitting that I have worn the same pair of jeans for days, sometimes weeks, without washing them. Putting your good jeans in the wash is like Russian roulette as you might not need them but could find yourself in a desperate situation, such as the one mentioned above, with absolutely nothing to wear except some leggings that are covered in dog hair. For this reason, I feel that I am doing myself a favour by not washing my jeans. I don't care if I've been wearing them for two weeks straight, sure spraying deodorant on them is basically like dry shampoo for clothes right?

'Missing out'

I can safely say that I am not a person who suffers from FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). Perhaps when I was younger this was something that bothered me a lot more like when I couldn't bear to miss out on walking aimlessly around town with my friends on a Saturday in case I wasn't there when someone made a joke that would be repeated in school for weeks afterwards.

As I've gotten older, and my interest in social events has dwindled, I realise that going out is not something that is an integral part of my life. When I see photos on Facebook of people my age going on nights out, I don't feel like I desperately NEED to be doing that too in order to feel like I'm enjoying myself. Sometimes it can feel like everyone else is moving ahead of you while you're still stuck in the same place. Social media can make us feel inadequate when we see our peers going backpacking around the world or starting their dream job and you begin to wonder what the hell you're going to do with your life. You have to remember that everyone's life moves at a different pace and someone else's goals and ambitions may not necessarily be the same as yours. When I see others making great achievements, I try not to look at it in a way which makes me feel like I'm missing out but more so as inspiration to get where I want to be (wherever that may be). You are bound to feel like a sack of shite at times, we all have our bad days, but just remember that you don't have to have everything figured out right now and you will get there in the end.