Packing is elevated to a whole new level when half your wardrobe is too big, a quarter too small, half outdated, a portion stained or damaged by pits or wine or the moth problem Phil had in Manhattan (so fcuking gross – he had moths living in his vacuum cleaner bag! And my sweaters have been RUINED because you can’t undo a cashmere hole without looking totally shoddy)…
As I was saying, a quarter too nightclub shorty McSlutTown, and then the majority of clothes that do fit and are in fine condition but that you simply, for whatever reason, just don’t wear… Plus the piles you’ve had stacked on the floor full of comfy college clothes, memory clothes, sweatshirts from old beaus, college orientation shirts, plus all the freebie shirts from conferences and concerts where you said, “I’ll wear it around the house or to work out in.”
It is time, fellow American (and Italian, German, Swedish, Malaysian, and Israeli) readers to purge yourselves of these lies. Time to release “I will” and make it “I do.” I do wear those shoes. I refuse to care about who the designer is or dwell on how costly it was. If I haven’t worn it in the past year, it is OUT.
There will be absolutely no period panties, no bras with broken down elasticity, no shirts or shorts or (cringe) boxers for sleep, and no gym socks that aren’t pure white. I will only sleep, forevermore, in clothes sold in the lounge wear and sleep department of stores. As for the workout clothes, if it’s uncomfortable, it’s outta here. Also, as a general rule, if costume designers and stylists wouldn’t dare put that sweater on Diane Keaton or Rene Russo (particularly in The Thomas Crown Affair), then be done with it! Nothing says I don’t give a shit about myself than slightly yellowed whites or even the smallest hole, so get to it!
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