Saturday, November 9, 2013

The Pink Purge!

My closet has taken on a life of its own. It's like an overgrown garden, things sprouting out where they shouldn't be, garbage accumulating amongst my shoes. I have things I don't wear anymore, things I haven't worn in decades and things that are not pink! Just so you know, you cannot do a good job cleaning any room by leaving the stuff in the room and trying to pick through the things you want to get rid of and those that stay. You need to pull everything out and then put the stuff back in that you want to keep. I started at 2:30 yesterday afternoon and stopped at 9:30, one big trash bag and four big donation bags and I'm still not done! My closet is growing pinker and I threw out mostly non-pink items. I did keep anything white or black and anything metallic, including a gold braided belt. I figure at fifty anything celebratory should stay. Now that my mother is in the throes of Alzheimer's Disease I can't bear to throw out anything she gave me such the peignoir set she bought for my wedding night. I won't throw out the white leather fringe jacket we got on my first trip to San Francisco in the 80s, along with the black suede shorts I'll certainly never wear again. I have a pair of white sparkly sandals that she gave me on a visit to Florida. They hurt my feet but are both sparkly and a gift from her, so they go back into the closet. I have a bag of beautiful purses I kept after cleaning out her house a year ago. I threw out countless bags of stuff and donated a garage full of even more things. I stage her house so that it looked so beautiful it made me cry. I think she would've been proud and pleased. I am not a purse person but for some reason I couldn't give away all of her purses. She always seemed to have a different one every time she went out. I remember watching her transfer her stuff and thought it was crazy. Her collection was a work of art. Of the ones I kept, one is made from gum wrappers and another from seat belts, one is beautifully beaded. I searched the pockets for any sign of her, even a crumpled cigarette or matches but there is nothing. They are meticulously clean as was how she kept everything. I even put my least favorite of her handbags back in the closet. Why, you might ask? Because it's pink.