Sunday, August 14, 2016

That skirt from the 90's...that I wore in the 90's













   I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’m not a pack rat.   A borderline hoarder…maybe, but a pack rat I am not.  "What’s the difference", you ask.  Actually, I’m not positive there is one, but let’s see where this rant goes.  
   One evening a horrifying show called, “Hoarders,” introduced me to the idea that one is not required to save garbage until it hits the ceiling in order to be defined as a hoarder.  Apparently, excessive collecting can also be a sign of this mental affliction.  Up to this point I'd always considered my shopping habit acceptable.  I reasoned my behavior did not qualify as hoarding since I store my purses in dust bags that are placed neatly in Rubbermaid tubs.  However, according to the fine folks of one of the most terrifying shows I’ve ever been subjected to, I have a hoarding problem.  I now understand one does not have to live in a home that looks like the inside of a garbage dumpster in order to meet the qualifications of this addiction. 
   OK, so admittedly I’m a, “bit,” of a hypochondriac and should never have been allowed to watch this program in the first place.  Although, now that I’ve been exposed to the idea that owning as many handbags as I do may not be a normal and healthy way to function I find myself actually considering whether I need another purse.  “Do I HAVE to have the new multi-color, fox fur Loeffler Randall tassel pouch?,” I ask myself.  After seeing, “Hoarders,” I feel like my eyes have been opened.  Emphatically I find myself answering, “Hell yes I need it!  A TV show told me I’m a, “sick,” woman.  I deserve a little happy in my life.”
   One could probably make the argument that joking about mental illness is in poor taste.  However, I can’t help it.  It seems with age my previous issues with hypochondria have greatly diminished.  Unless it’s Ebola, I just don’t give a crap anymore.  Oh yeah, and I guess that Spontaneous Human Combustion thing still freaks me out.  Can that possibly be real?...because I’ve found myself getting really hot before and I could have swor…..okay we’re going to end that bit of crazy right there.
   I stated earlier that I’m not a pack rat.  This is something I've always been proud of.  While I’ll admit to, "collecting," items I’m interested in, I'll also state that once I’m tired of something I get rid of it.  There have been many occasions where I've cleaned out my closet and given away bag loads of clothing and accessories.  I've always felt good about giving people things. In addition, there's a sense of triumph about creating more space in an overstuffed closet…more space for new things…like the LR tassel pouch that arguably takes up little space to begin with. 
   In my opinion, the most interesting thing about cleaning out one’s closet is seeing which items make the cut.  Often, these pieces are ones that I've previously underestimated.  An example of this can be found in the skirt I’m wearing in the above photographs.  This item is literally something I bought in 1998 during my first year of college.   In addition, I bought it upon receiving my very first credit card!  I remember nervously filling out the card application at the store while wondering if I would receive the approval of the company.  Funny, I never even considered my parents approval.   In the end the evil empire of credit came through for me.  That fateful day an eighteen year old would-be fashionista was given a gold charge card for the Express store. 
   The rest is history.  Surprisingly, this skirt has prevailed all the closet cleanses I’ve had since college.  What can I say?  I liked this piece in 1998 and I still like it now.  It’s a classic item of clothing that I believe will survive anything.  Huh...I wonder what it’s odds are against that Spontaneous Human Combustion thing?



Skirt:  Express  (God...is the 90’s now considered vintage?)
Shoes:  New Balance
Purse:  Sundance (Gift from Mom)
Belt:  Thrifted
Necklace:  Amrita Singh

1 comment: