A Scrapbook of Clothes

Posted on 16 September 2009

For some reason the Spring Cleaning Bug hit me this fall. I decided to go through my closet with a vengeance and get rid of the many, many clothes that fill up my closet and are way too big for me.

Whenever I bring home new clothes, I see a look of confusion cross my husband’s face. He never says anything, but his face clearly says, “What the heck? All your clothes don’t even fit in your closet, why the world do you need ANOTHER <whatever it is I just purchased>.”

I have kept clothes that are way too big and that I will never wear again for YEARS. As I pulled out all the clothes and sifted through them, moments of time walked in front of me and things I had forgotten about quickly came to mind.

I cannot scrapbook without sprouting grey hair, so perhaps my closet was my scrapbook.

I found old coats with pockets full of grocery lists, movie tickets, blistex, receipts, and random notes.

It seems this pocket was from 2003. The winter that Nancy and I nearly died from frostbite in the Death Trap while trying to register for a stained glass class. This receipt is proof that we registered, and lived to tell about it

It also appears that I was apprehensive about asparagus in 2003.

As I dug through the clothes, I found a cache of McDonald’s shirts. Memories of competing and winning Gold in the grill competition in the All American Games popped up. I will never forget managing the store while wearing a polyester grey skirt, a purple button down shirt, orthopedic shoes, nylons, and a super sexy tie. Who says being 18 isn’t awkward?

My sweatshirt from my senior year of high school was mixed in with the McDonalds’ outfits. Suddenly, it was as though I was in Civics class with Mr. Hodus discussing Bill Clinton’s indiscretions and trying to wake up, as it was only 7 am.

Deeper into the pile of unknown, I found my NABC sweatshirts. Someone convinced me to purchase an x-large one my first year. I was a chunky girl back then, but even still it was big on me.

Nobody needs 3 of the same large letter sweatshirts – even if it gets down to -40 where you live.

Then I went for the large, hanging garment bag. The bag with the old bridesmaids dresses from my larger years. I have had these dresses for 10 years, and don’t really know why. So I put them all on to see how ridiculous they all looked on me now.

As I wore each dress, memories of the days wafted into my mind.

I was with Mandy as she married Tim on a crisp, clear winter day. Perhaps the sweetest brides I have ever seen.

A flurry of activity and stress to replace fuchsia flowers from my sister’s bouquet so there was no clashing in the pictures jumped into my mind. Panic became relief when Jody came to the rescue. My sister was gorgeous that day with her burgundy roses.

Walking down the isle at Cara’s wedding in bare feet to watch her dreams come true as she married her best friend will not be easily forgotten.

The dresses look absolutely horrible, but the memories are beautiful.

I bagged up all the clothes, the 16 years of memories that I couldn’t part with until yesterday, and put them at the door.

I don’t need to keep the clothes to remember anymore. Now I have room in my closet for all the clothes that actually fit and new memories. Best of all, now I have a good reason to go out and purchase some new clothes!