A few months into lockdown, I decided to do a ‘Marie Kondo’ and reclaim my life. I looked around my home and decided that clothing and books were my major problem. (I didn’t even consider the vast collection of handbags, footwear and knick-knacks.)
Ms. Kondo suggests going about organizing by category and, as per her instructions, I decided to tackle my closets first. I could almost hear the happy sigh from wardrobe number one. It was liberation time for those stretched hangers which regained their original shape as soon as I removed all the clothes and threw them onto the bed.
Looking at the mountain of clothes, I was aghast. I rifled through the ‘all too small’ wardrobe. How on earth had I managed to fit all those clothes in there? Squaring my shoulders, I sorted the clothing into three neat piles. Into the first pile went the clothes that I fitted into – in another lifetime. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I knew that I would have to wait for my re-birth to fit back into them.
The second pile was for clothes that I had worn to my workplace before work-from-home began, and the third was for brand-new items, some with their tags still attached. I stood there, shamefaced. Those ‘end of season’ sales must have been planned for indiscriminate buyers like me.
Sticking to my resolve, I played by Kondo’s rules and began discarding, starting with the first pile. I held each garment up against myself, thanked it sincerely for having served its purpose and considered whether or not it ‘sparked joy’ within me.
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