Somebody at work commented that I seem to have a lot of clothes. Not really. They fit in a few drawers and one tiny closet the size of a (now defunct) phone booth, but I try to make good use of what I have. It’s always good if somebody notices your fashion sense, especially when you saved cents to obtain the look you love.
The clothes don’t cost as much as my shoes, because with wide width feet the best choice is good quality shoes not found in your typical mall store. A friend liked my sandals, and I told her where I had bought them, and that they were on sale. She still cringed at the price, but good quality shoes last longer than one season; I have some pairs I have worn for over a decade because they were made well and I take care of them. We now have a bet that, ten years from now, she will check with me and I am sure I will have the same sandals. I look at the price as somewhere between discount Christian Louboutin and upper crust Payless (if they had such a thing). Some people like to buy and discard shoes each year; not me.
My clothes come from all sorts of places, but I embrace two designers who put out some great stuff and are rewarded with chunks of my paycheck regularly. I also check out Kohl’s on occasion. It’s how you wear them, not where they came from, that counts. The hunt is what makes the experience worth the time. Months go by with nothing to show for it, then suddenly something great appears and goes into my shopping bag.
This year I promised myself to go through each top once during the season. It has not been my best idea, because I have also been attempting to use Marie Kondo’s method of folding and storing clothes, and moving those neatly folded items assembly line style does not seem to be what she had in mind. So far it seems to be working, and if I come across a top that isn’t bringing me joy, I can set it aside for the donation pile and move to the next one. Everything in my wardrobe will get its time in the sun this year. And maybe some compliments to go with them.