That there are items in your medicine cabinet which are two to three years past their expiration dates is a good indication you need to clean it out a bit more frequently.
Old, stubby eyeliner pencils and used up mascara tubes serve no purpose, other than creating the illusion that one’s makeup basket/collection is a veritable cornucopia of beauty – yet, the primary aim of makeup is to create the illusion that you really aren’t wearing (don’t need) much.
There’s something marginally depressing about realizing your “lingerie chest” would actually be more appropriately referred to as your “repository for random racing gear and winter wardrobe accessories,” and that most of the items in it which actually do qualify it as a lingerie chest are virtual strangers to you.
Tossing old socks and undies in the trash feels wasteful, but what are ya gonna do?
Picking up other power cords off the floor before you vacuum is not a pointless exercise; corollary: black electrical tape is a wonderful invention.
Your closet never seems big until you contemplate going through everything in it.
No one should own more than five pair of sweatpants. Really. And they certainly shouldn’t still own any that they can vividly recall wearing in the summer of 1986, or that sport remnants of cat hair belonging to a cat who’s been chasing mice around Kitty Heaven since 1997. Not that I know anyone who does…
What exactly do you do with the large, boxy, bright yellow sweater, sporting a panda which your mother knitted for you (and the matching white turtle neck with panda prints), which you proudly and regularly wore (along with black and white houndstooth slacks) while in college, but of which you are pretty certain there is no photographic proof?
Cowl-necked sweaters really aren’t all that flattering. They probably make for good bibs when you’re old, though.
It makes little sense to hold onto a cardigan sweater you haven’t worn in approximately twenty years because you wore it the night you said goodbye to someone you’ve since said “hello” (and “goodbye”) to several times.
A large-brimmed straw hat is a cute and whimsical beach accessory. But where in the hell do you store it for the 99.9% of your life which isn’t spent on the beach trying to appear cute and whimsical?
The snakeskin-print bikini top with the shear white blouse and black leather pants get-up might arguably have looked edgy and hot out at the clubs 12 years ago (setting aside the question of how believable it looked on yours truly, even then), but sporting such a look over 40 would scream “DESPERATE COUGAR!!” so loudly, it’d likely rob me of the rest of my hearing. Into the donation pile it goes. Some young sassy thang out there is in luck!
Not that I’m pitching everything edgy and hot – not by a long shot. I do, however, think I should probably be ashamed of the fact that my closet sports no less than 60 tank/camisole/halter-type tops while I live in a place that isn’t even remotely tropical.
I have a lot of very nice blouses I rarely have occasion to wear. I wonder if any of them would look good under a black robe?
Are pit stains really necessary?! Seriously?
Given that “grunge” went out 12-15 years ago, I think it’s okay to let go of the red/green/black/white extra large plaid flannel shirt from the Gap, and its equally colorful blue/green/yellow/white twin. Also, I have a long history of plaid abuse.
No one needs more than eight pair of black, strappy high heels. Okay. Maybe ten.
Either I or the people who love me (or have claimed to over the years) have REALLY bad taste in jewelry. Or both. But even bad gold jewelry has some value now, right?
Women’s collar pins – they’re never coming back.
I have a Kate Spade purse (or a knock-off) that I bought at a purse party several years ago, and have never used. I’m not really a trendy-purse girl. I probably shouldn’t attend purse parties.
Cleaning out a purse you haven’t used in three years is a lot like opening a time capsule.
Trying on jeans you haven’t worn in several years is always an adventure. High-waisted jeans flatter no one. The black leather jeans – which are high-waisted and look seriously tacky — still fit. I’m keeping them.
It’s going to take me longer than a weekend to complete Springcleanapaloozathon….
Old, stubby eyeliner pencils and used up mascara tubes serve no purpose, other than creating the illusion that one’s makeup basket/collection is a veritable cornucopia of beauty – yet, the primary aim of makeup is to create the illusion that you really aren’t wearing (don’t need) much.
There’s something marginally depressing about realizing your “lingerie chest” would actually be more appropriately referred to as your “repository for random racing gear and winter wardrobe accessories,” and that most of the items in it which actually do qualify it as a lingerie chest are virtual strangers to you.
Tossing old socks and undies in the trash feels wasteful, but what are ya gonna do?
Picking up other power cords off the floor before you vacuum is not a pointless exercise; corollary: black electrical tape is a wonderful invention.
Your closet never seems big until you contemplate going through everything in it.
No one should own more than five pair of sweatpants. Really. And they certainly shouldn’t still own any that they can vividly recall wearing in the summer of 1986, or that sport remnants of cat hair belonging to a cat who’s been chasing mice around Kitty Heaven since 1997. Not that I know anyone who does…
What exactly do you do with the large, boxy, bright yellow sweater, sporting a panda which your mother knitted for you (and the matching white turtle neck with panda prints), which you proudly and regularly wore (along with black and white houndstooth slacks) while in college, but of which you are pretty certain there is no photographic proof?
Cowl-necked sweaters really aren’t all that flattering. They probably make for good bibs when you’re old, though.
It makes little sense to hold onto a cardigan sweater you haven’t worn in approximately twenty years because you wore it the night you said goodbye to someone you’ve since said “hello” (and “goodbye”) to several times.
A large-brimmed straw hat is a cute and whimsical beach accessory. But where in the hell do you store it for the 99.9% of your life which isn’t spent on the beach trying to appear cute and whimsical?
The snakeskin-print bikini top with the shear white blouse and black leather pants get-up might arguably have looked edgy and hot out at the clubs 12 years ago (setting aside the question of how believable it looked on yours truly, even then), but sporting such a look over 40 would scream “DESPERATE COUGAR!!” so loudly, it’d likely rob me of the rest of my hearing. Into the donation pile it goes. Some young sassy thang out there is in luck!
Not that I’m pitching everything edgy and hot – not by a long shot. I do, however, think I should probably be ashamed of the fact that my closet sports no less than 60 tank/camisole/halter-type tops while I live in a place that isn’t even remotely tropical.
I have a lot of very nice blouses I rarely have occasion to wear. I wonder if any of them would look good under a black robe?
Are pit stains really necessary?! Seriously?
Given that “grunge” went out 12-15 years ago, I think it’s okay to let go of the red/green/black/white extra large plaid flannel shirt from the Gap, and its equally colorful blue/green/yellow/white twin. Also, I have a long history of plaid abuse.
No one needs more than eight pair of black, strappy high heels. Okay. Maybe ten.
Either I or the people who love me (or have claimed to over the years) have REALLY bad taste in jewelry. Or both. But even bad gold jewelry has some value now, right?
Women’s collar pins – they’re never coming back.
I have a Kate Spade purse (or a knock-off) that I bought at a purse party several years ago, and have never used. I’m not really a trendy-purse girl. I probably shouldn’t attend purse parties.
Cleaning out a purse you haven’t used in three years is a lot like opening a time capsule.
Trying on jeans you haven’t worn in several years is always an adventure. High-waisted jeans flatter no one. The black leather jeans – which are high-waisted and look seriously tacky — still fit. I’m keeping them.
It’s going to take me longer than a weekend to complete Springcleanapaloozathon….
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