Simplicity, thy name will be Aya in 2009!
Lately, I’m striving to adopt a simpler way of living. I ask myself: what do I need? how much of it fits in 2 suitcases? It’s really all just stuff. It’s pretty stuff and it’s MINE but dammit, it’s just stuff.
Every few months or so, I remove clutter and donate books/CDs to the local library. And with a great deal of pain that starts somewhere in the midsection and ends somewhere behind the ears, I give away clothes and/or shoes that I know I will not wear. How do I know I will not wear them again? Because I have developed the habit of carrying a shirt around for 4 or 5 years and not wear it once.
I read somewhere about a charity called Dress for Success in my city which supplies poor/struggling women with clothes to wear when invited to job interviews. Unlike Goodwilll, the clothes have to be very gently worn and well taken care of, but preferably newish. You know that lovely shirt you bought a week ago and is now busting at the seams after dry cleaning or washing? It might better to donate it or buy a more fitting size next time. Since I refuse to buy bigger sizes, I give away with much throbbing pain.
Donating to these charities doesn’t mean that you grab your tattered, brown-at-the-pits, t-shirt you borrowed from cousin Laila.
Speaking of relatives, they tend to give the, um, most interesting gifts and you can’t yell at them the way you would with friends. What’s worse is that you might be forced to wear them at gatherings, especially if an older female relative with one of those age-defying memories is the giver. Donate those clothes before the gathering or risk social ostracism from the world of the sane.
Thinking of giving clothes/shoes to a relative yourself? Gift certificates, people, gift certificates!
This weekend was my weekend to rummage, wash or dry clean, sort, and fold. Let me give you a quick history of a few items that are leaving me with an empty nest.
Exhibit A
This lovely skirt was a gift from a truly lovely aunt. Yes, it is actually as busy, colourful, wide, glittery-in-some-areas, as it seems. With all due respect to the Roma people, I do not do flow-and-shine. I’ve never worn it but I’d imagine it would make a bohemian chic out there happy. Sigh.
Exhibit B
These are my sensible, every meeting, shoes. It doesn’t matter how many I buy for work, I would still pick up an identical pair. My friends have an intervention system in place now. If at anytime I hint at going shoe-shopping, there is team action to intercept, accompany or distract. Bitches! What are they saying about my taste in shoes?! Anyway, this pair has to go before I lose my two front teeth and look like my great uncle who got fucked up in WWII.
The only thing wrong with them (other than being terminally sensible) is that I have two left feet. The first day I wore them I was hurrying to the ladies’ room when I realized that my foot brakes were failing. For a second that felt much longer, my arms waved in the air frantically searching for an anchor before I crash into the lady before me. Instead, I pushed her into the swivel doors that open inwards and she was swallowed up. I steadied myself and, before stepping in, heard her topple the trash can and shout ‘son-of-a..‘. I wanted to go in, apologize, and make sure she was okay, but was too ashamed of my criminal clumsiness. She came out and said something even dirty-mouthed me couldn’t repeat here. Sigh.
Exhibit C
Giving these jeans away hurts the most. They just don’t fit right. I ordered them online and they looked so awesome on the model. I daydreamt of my sexy self being the object of every man’s desire as I strut through the farmers’ market but, goddammit, they don’t make them for girls built like David Beckham. I am crushed.
Sigh.
I urge you to shed the excess weight from your life. Giving clothes away is a good beginning. The rummaging itself is tedious and painful but a friend suggested some 70s or 80s dance music while you’re doing it. Try one of these two:
If Boney M’s Brown Girl in the Ring doesn’t do it for you, try this pair below. If nothing else, the psychotic dancing plus middle-aged cadaan people breakin’ it down will make the pain of giving your stuff away a little easier to bear.
