I realised something shocking this week.
Something that caught me so unaware that I had to sit down for a couple of minutes to take it in.
Looking back, it is obviously something that has been building up for many many years but I just couldn’t see it clearly until now.
I suppose I’ve had an inkling every now and then. More recently, a wave of guilt has passed over me whenever I have indulged another whim… but it has been just as quickly brushed aside and ignored.
But this week, I realised the full extent of it.
It shocked me to my very core.
I do not need anymore clothes.
While pulling options (Rachel Zoe speak) for my upcoming Greek holiday, I happily piled summer dresses, denim skirts, longline tops, t-shirts, tunics, kaftans, linen trousers, shorts, flowery skirts, maxi dresses, tea dresses, tunics, cover ups, vests, maxi skirts, beachwear, swimwear, silk dresses, silk skirts, coloured jeans, kimono jackets, short-sleeved cardigans, sarongs, t-shirt dresses and racer tops onto the bed.
Each item comes in red, green, white, cream, blue, black, hot pink and coral.
I also have the same collection in a smaller size, which let’s be honest, might as well still have the labels on for as many times as I have been able to squeeze myself into them.
The Greek God(zilla) looked completely horrified at the heap of clothes that could effortlessly satisfy 2 changes a day for about 6-weeks.
“Obviously, I’m not taking ALL of it” I assured him “Now, I need to edit” (and match each outfit up with accessories and shoes)
But secretly, I was just as horrified.
Even minus the summer wardrobe, hangers still fought for space on the rails and clothes bulged out of every available drawer space.
I counted 17 black dresses (that still fit) in various lengths and styles and I never go out anywhere to wear them.
Yet I still purchased another black dress last week. I justified it because it was only £7.99 and would be perfect for my holiday.
In the spare room, there is another cupboard bursting with jackets and shoes. Another for scarves and bags.
In the loft, there is a suitcase full of clothes that I should take to the charity shop because I have not looked at them for 2 years.
I have jeans that I have held onto for when ‘I slim back into them’ but the last time I wore them was in 2001. They are bootcut hipster Levis. I WILL NEVER WEAR THEM AGAIN.
Why did I think I needed so many clothes? I am not Carrie Bradshaw, Rachel Zoe or Kate Moss. Nor do I work in fashion or get papped on a regular basis.
I am a working mum who lives in the same 4 items every day – skinny jeans, long tunic top, flat shoes and a jacket. I will maybe go out with friends every other month and will wear skinny jeans, long tunic top, flat shoes and a jacket.
Occassionally, if the sun is out, I might wear a long skirt with a loose fitting top, flat shoes and a jacket.
The last time I was required to wear a ‘special occassion’ dress was probably at my own wedding.
So why do I have so many of them?
How many times have I bought something because it was in the sale/pretty/I was bored and told myself it would be great for dinner with friends or a Christmas party?
How long was I walking around in a sleep deprived daze for to think that white jeans would ever be a good look on me?
How many times have I met someone for brunch wearing a tea dress?
Then I realised that I have still been clothes shopping for the life (& the body) I used to have.
Finally, I really do not need anymore clothes.
So, answer me this then…
Why can I never find anything to wear?