I've been not exactly busy, preoccupied is the right word I think. I'm sorting through old clothes, I have wardrobes full of clothes so its a pity I hardly ever change from my routine selection. Or that's what I decided, time to make some changes I thought, time to have a clear out thought I.
Time to be ruthless and get rid of some stuff. I mean there are naked people in a desert somewhere dangerously exposed to the elements and obviously desperate for one of my old dresses.
The thing is I can talk about it, I can write about it and I can even say it out loud, but I can't do it. Not without standing for an hour, or so it feels, clutching a not very important skirt as though it held deep emotional and psychological significance just for me.
I'm a hoarder the fact that no item of clothing I have is more or less important than anyone elses is neither here nor there I'm certain deep in my bones that if I throw anything out I will as soon as its hanging in Oxfam have a desperate need for it.
Let me tell you about the blouse I've had since the seventies, very fine cotton, floral with bell sleeves, and those long collars you don't see anymore, its bound to be needed one day probably the same day it will fit me again.
I went to the trouble of moving the buttons on the sleeves so the cuffs were properly tight so I did. Fuckit I'm not giving it away its obviously far too important, and only think whoever I gave it to might wear it once and throw it away. The very idea!
Its not as if I'm not generous I give money easily, I've given a lot of my jewelry, well I had to even I couldn't ram that many rings onto my fingers as for ear rings and necklaces I don't wish to be reminded. I miss each and every one and happy I am to know they've all gone to good homes.
So I'm doing it. I am! Slowly methodically and to say the least reluctantly. I might if I work hard and maintain resolution fill a whole bag of clothes by sometime next week or maybe next year.
Time to be ruthless and get rid of some stuff. I mean there are naked people in a desert somewhere dangerously exposed to the elements and obviously desperate for one of my old dresses.
The thing is I can talk about it, I can write about it and I can even say it out loud, but I can't do it. Not without standing for an hour, or so it feels, clutching a not very important skirt as though it held deep emotional and psychological significance just for me.
I'm a hoarder the fact that no item of clothing I have is more or less important than anyone elses is neither here nor there I'm certain deep in my bones that if I throw anything out I will as soon as its hanging in Oxfam have a desperate need for it.
Let me tell you about the blouse I've had since the seventies, very fine cotton, floral with bell sleeves, and those long collars you don't see anymore, its bound to be needed one day probably the same day it will fit me again.
I went to the trouble of moving the buttons on the sleeves so the cuffs were properly tight so I did. Fuckit I'm not giving it away its obviously far too important, and only think whoever I gave it to might wear it once and throw it away. The very idea!
Its not as if I'm not generous I give money easily, I've given a lot of my jewelry, well I had to even I couldn't ram that many rings onto my fingers as for ear rings and necklaces I don't wish to be reminded. I miss each and every one and happy I am to know they've all gone to good homes.
So I'm doing it. I am! Slowly methodically and to say the least reluctantly. I might if I work hard and maintain resolution fill a whole bag of clothes by sometime next week or maybe next year.
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