When I was a kid, I didn’t have a lot of disposable income, and even if I did I would spend it on pursuits such as collectible cards or candy or movies or CDs (glad that I only have one of those vices now). That didn’t leave a lot of money for clothes. Actually I didn’t spend my disposable money on clothes, because I would get them as gifts or I would just go with my mom to buy them.

And of course, my mom (well I don’t either – even now) wouldn’t understand why it was worthwhile to spend $50 on jeans so I usually ended up shopping from the clearance rack and getting clothes that were a size or two too large (that’s OK, because I wanted baggy clothing).

I also have this funny habit of being a packrat, at least with clothes. Yeah, maybe I will wear them someday when I have to take part in a 90s-style fashion show. Or grow really fat. Or have my legs extended a couple of inches. So I accumulated more and more rubbermaid containers filled with old clothes and stacked them in my closet.

Then I had an epiphany, you don’t wear clothes that you can’t see! When I get dressed in the morning, I head to the closet, look through sleepy eyes at my clothes, and grab something for my top and something for my bottom. Hopefully they match. I’m not going to dig through a pile of clothes boxes to find something to wear. And as past experience shows, my packed clothes haven creases from being in boxes too long.

So I threw everything out. Yup, why keep them around if you’re not going to use them. Plus, I keep getting additions to my closet from cross-border shopping and what not. Now I understand what Caucasian people talk about when they have to buy a new wardrobe every season.

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