This Weekend's Project - Cleaning The Closet That Reflects My Mental Status

Before - Oh, the clutter, the disorganization. Check out the wayward hanger jutting up towards the ceiling right next to the empty, tissue-papered, dry cleaner hanger. Similar to my mind two weeks ago, I couldn't get anything in or out. It was all one useless system of jumbled mess. Getting dressed with this chaos was sheer torture. When a person is riding daily on the brink, one lost pair of pants or one shirt in plain sight but impossible to pull from an entangled mess of hangers was enough to push me from sad to desolate.

After -Now that I have a new zen statement firmly planted in my head (I'm going to be a Mom; I just don't know when), I couldn't have a messy closet stripping me of this delicate balance. I have to say it was cathartic putting this insanity back to order. It took a few hours, but ahhh, check out the prettiness. Neat rows of clothing, hung according to type: belts, scarfs, silk blouses, cotton dress shirts, skirt suits, pantsuits, separates and dresses. (Yes, I just typed that without referencing the picture.)

What's Next? - Well, sifting through garment after garment also had the benefit of making me realize I need to buy some new work clothes. I realized if I actually got rid of everything that didn't fit or needed fixed, I'd have only one or two things to wear. You may be shocked to learn this, but I don't enjoy buying clothes. Yes, you read that correctly, Miss Dior does not enjoy buying clothes. Purses: Love 'em! Shoes: More Please! Jewelry: Tres Fun! But clothes, almost always torture. I think it's because of my challenges vertically. Everything I buy must first visit my Korean tailor or Russian alterations specialist. What fun are items you can't just buy and wear?

I hear that when you have children your priorities shift and all of a sudden your child's wardrobe reflects fall's latest fashions while yours reflects what your child had for lunch. So, I better buckle down and get some new work duds before I become the Momma who tells the tale of the "Empress without clothing," sans book.