Out, out damn clothes!

Along with shopping for a new bathing suit and performing a pre-surgery bowel prep on myself, cleaning out/organizing my closets is one of my least favorite activities. When I moved into this house last November, I was too busy with the baby to do any pre-moving purging of stuff I don't wear/don't need. And that not only goes for my clothes, shoes, etc. I mean, I didn't throw anything away. I just moved it all, and I still have 1/2 a garage full of shit I need to get rid of because of it. But I digress...

So, the closets. When I moved in, I just threw everything I own into the two closets that are in the master bath and said, "Fuck it. I'll deal with it later." So this weekend, 11 months later, I finally did just that. Mom had The Geej yesterday, so I took advantage of it to do the closet purge/seasonal clothes switcheroo.

Here were my rules:
1) If it's a size 8 (or smaller), get rid of it. There's no way that my pushing-forty ass is ever going to see Size 8 again unless I get thrown back into the hospital for a month and drop another 20 lbs.
2) If it was purchased prior to 1995, it's gone.
3) If it looks like something Elaine would've worn on Seinfeld, bye-bye.
4) If it's got a hole in it--due to moths or something else--or some sort of other rip and you know your lazy ass is never going to get it fixed, adios.
5) If the store you purchased it from went out of business some time in the last millennium, consider tossing it.
6) Pit stains = automatic toss out.
7) No one needs more than 3 pairs of khaki shorts.

It took me hours. HOURS. I started at around 11am (yes, I had the Texas game on the bedroom television. Go Horns!!), and wasn't 100% finished until about 5:30. It wasn't just my closets though: I also cleaned out my armoire (good bye pantyhose drawer!!), my chest of drawers, and the two under bed storage thingies I had stashed under my bed. In the end, I had 4 bags of stuff for Goodwill and a pile of cute, tiny things set aside for my skinniest friend, Thelma Jane.

During my cleaning extravaganza, I ran across several things that are pretty fantastic:

This skeezy little number is from my Backroom/Black Cat/Steamboat days, when my hair was really long, and so was the hair of all the guys I dated. La Turista, do you remember this one? This thing has a low, scooped neckline that featured my boobs nicely, and it was form fitting, which was okay when my form was, ahem, more fit.

(I have photos of all of the following stuff too, but Blogger isn't letting me post them.)

I also found an aDORable short-sleeved, button-down sweater with embroidered flowers all over it!! It's SO me!! I'd wear this EVERY DAY if I could get away with it. It would go well with my lobotomy and my Botox injections. Too bad it doesn't really need a scarf to accesorize it because...

I found several scarves that were clearly from my as chair of the Texas Women's Republican Caucus and sold Mary Kay. Oh GOD! Not only can't I believe that I owned these ghastly things, I also can't believe I ever had--and wore--outfits that I thought they accessorized nicely. Ugh.

I also discovered 5 pieces of clothing that still had the tags on them from when they were purchased...well over a year ago. I'm so ashamed...

I also found this flippin' sweet t-shirt that said "I Love Soaps" on it, with a caricature of a pathetic looking Cathy-esque gal with a bow in her hair and big 80s Sally Jesse Raphael glasses. All in shades of neon yellow, pink and purple? I totally forgot I had it. I'm going to have to wear it to work tomorrow because it's true: I do LOVE my soaps. (But seriously, I wore this as part of my "Ugly American on Vacation" outfit I dreamed up for a white trash party some friends threw. I bedazzled it and went nuts with a glitter pen as well. It went nicely with my purple jogging pants, my "Puerto Rico" fanny pack, and my purple visor with a built in fan.)

With all of the crapola I DID find, I'm surprised I didn't find Jimmy Hoffa in my damn closet. I swear.