The Great Closet Clean-Out 2004

Yep, it's that time again. Time to clean out le boudoir de moi, starting with that most upsetting, emotion-stirring, and memory-ridden of spaces: the closet. *cue scary music* What on earth made me venture into and presume to tame that cavernous black hole, that collection of odds, ends, and dilapidated T-shirts that I haven't gone through since the eighth grade, you ask? Well, it all began, as most of my projects do, with a book. Ready to Wear: An Expert's Guide to Choosing and Using Your Wardrobe, written by Mary Lou Andre, to be exact. As a person who loves to be given guidelines for proper organization (priggish little pedant that I am), it's manna. Yeah, from there.So in a fury of enthusiasm I began. I've spent the last three hours sorting through every single thing in my closet. Some things surprised me (I have thirteen pairs of jeans, for one . . . o_O Who knew?) and some things didn't (I have way too darn many T-shirts). Anyway, prodigious digging and reminiscing and a bit of disgust at some of my teenage tastes (jelly shoes--gah!) ensued, and I finally reached the back of the closet, or should I say the sad-ripped-things graveyard. Adios, old high school t-shirts. You served me well, but it is time to say farewell (is it strange that I now have the chant "Now is the time, let her go in peace" chant from The Craft running through my head? Yeah, probably) Long may you . . . biodegrade.One more thing: I've decided to pitch the funeral dress. It just seems morbid to have it lurking around in the back of the closet, insidiously influencing things. Bad karma. BEGONE!! *does the closet-cleaning dance* Ahhhhh . . . I feel better already.To all those with messy closets: TAG, you're it!!