When I was young our family didn’t have much money, so most of my clothes were handmade by my mother or hand me downs from charity boxes. I wore dresses most of the time (it was forbidden to wear pants to school) and my wardrobe was divided between Sunday Best and Everyday (Sunday Best a little the worse for wear). My parents were shocked by the fashion trends of the 60s and 70s. They valued modestly and disapproved of anything that might “draw attention”.  Nothing too short, too tight or too flashy. So I didn’t experimenting much with fashion as many girls do in their teens.

This is not a sob story. Actually it’s a story of delight. The delight I felt in my early forties when, newly divorced, I started the process of figuring out my own style; what I like and what lights me up. I hired a friend, a personal stylist, to help go through my closet, tossing what no longer fit (physically or metaphorically), and shopping for a wardrobe that made me feel like the best and truest version of myself when I got dressed.

This November (twenty years later) I took another step along this journey. I hired a coach/consultant to come in and do a wardrobe curation. Together we emptied my drawers and closets and assessed everything I own. Tossed what was worn, outdated, unflattering or otherwise unsuitable. Made piles to go to the cleaners, the tailor, the recycling centre, the trash. Had fun creating new outfits with what was left. Styling them with what I own and making note of what I might purchase to fill a hole or make a statement.

The “ah hah” for me was the tailoring. A little under 5’2″, I’m both petite and busty.  It became clear as we went through my closet that many of the clothes, purchased in regular stores in regular sizes, didn’t fit me properly. They didn’t look bad, but my consultant showed me how raising or lowering a hem, a sleeve, a shoulder seam, adding a dart, could transform the way I look and feel in the clothes I’m wearing.

So, off I went to the dry cleaner and the tailor. Now everything I own is clean and mended and a perfect fit. Recent purchases made on impulse and then regretted, and anything still in good shape, we passed on to a woman new to this country. She came, as many refugees do, with very little. The clothes fit and suit her perfectly so we are both happy. Most of what couldn’t be donated went to textile recycling. 

I’ve bought a couple of new pieces (not much and not expensive) to fill gaps we identified during the curation. My drawers are organised, clothes neatly folded. In the closet my things are arranged on velvet covered hangers. Shoes lined up by function on the two tier shoe rack below. Purses, scarves and travel gear in open front boxes on shelves above. 

I can’t describe the pleasure I feel now when I wake up in the morning and open my closet. I wear more of my clothes. It feels great to put them on.

Three morals in this story:

1. When it comes to our clothes, and all other life choices, fit matters.
2. Getting rid of what is worn, outdated or not longer fits is liberating.
3. What a pleasure it is to wake up to a closet, and a life, perfectly tailored to you.

Yours with creativity and imagination,

Darlene

p.s. P.S. Shout out to coach and stylist extraordinaire, Anne Claudette Brundage-Hampson, who specialises in coaching women at mid-life, which as we know is prime time for reinvention.

p.p.s. The feature image for this blog is a photo I took while window shopping in Rome last year. Perhaps it’s been my subconscious nudge to step it up a bit?