Clothes. We all know that we have too many of them. Along with my many stripy Breton tops, I am aware that I have too many clothes to fit in my wardrobe. The space is getting tighter and tighter as I cram another grey jumper into it. I’m conscious my wardrobe requires a declutter, but I just can’t bear to part with some of my clothing. It is like I just love to look at them even though I haven’t fitted into them recently...cough, cough...nine years. I tell myself that I will fit back into that dress, so why should I give it up, but who am I kidding.
So why do women buy so many clothes and more than we can possibly wear? Whilst chatting to my six-year-old daughter while rummaging through my wardrobe, she said ‘oooooh, I love this orange skirt mummy, why don’t you wear it?’ I replied by saying ‘oh I’ve saving it for a special occasion”. My daughter enquired “oh right. When is that?” Good question. I genuinely didn’t have an answer. Was there ever likely to be ‘the’ special occasion?
Our affection with clothes and shoes isn’t a new thing. We fall in love with items we see hanging so beautifully in the shop and we envisage ourselves wearing the outfit. We just can’t resist temptation to buy it. Last year when shopping with a friend, I picked up a black leather jacket. I put it on, looked in the mirror and for a split second, I felt like Kate Moss. I was unleashing my inner rock chick. I was so chuffed with my new purchase and for the next two hours, I was in love with this jacket. It was only once I got home did I doubt myself on whether I could pull this off. I put my jacket on once again and looked back at myself in the mirror. Kate Moss wasn’t looking back at me. Leather jacket, skinny black jeans, suede ankle boots...who was I kidding? I have since re-sold my leather jacket on E-Bay.
And as we have so many of these beautiful clothes, gravity pulls them down to the floor, because we don’t have the space for them all. I don’t know why this is happening, but I am accumulating piles of clothes on the floor; now fondly known as my floordrobe. But don’t panic, this isn’t horrendous piles of old clothes like something out of the programme ‘secret hoarders’; these clothes are clean, just neatly stacked on the floor. I am a tidy person but I am so thoroughly exhausted by the time my bed is calling (10pm); I just put my clothes in a folded pile and the floordrobe is magically created.
I was talking to my sister in law about this earlier this week and we starting discussing work wear. I mentioned how I had too many clothes and that my wardrobe was turning into a floordrobe. She laughed and agreed ‘yes!’ she exclaimed. “I’ve got a floordrobe too!”. Well, at least I wasn’t alone. So what should I do about this situation? Is it really too much effort to open a wardrobe door after a hard day’s work? Err...yes, sometimes it is.
Guilty Mother followers, please reassure me I am not the only owner of a floordrobe? On a final note, the other issue I have is that my husband now partakes in some floordrobe activity. I once heard someone joke that, they didn’t understand why women would pay to go and see a male stripper who throws his underwear on the floor. They could watch their husbands do it at home every night for free. Harsh...but true.