Closet catharsis: Make it about the clothes

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 27/05/2023 (1200 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

For weeks, I had been avoiding my closet.

Getting dressed was becoming a game of closet roulette, in which any given Before Times item I pulled from its overstuffed depths raised the question: Will it fit?

As anyone who has ever had to cut themselves out of a dress with a pair of kitchen scissors knows, this game is stressful.

I was holding on to a lot of trendy, fast-fashion pieces from 10-plus years ago; although I think the coral chevron-and-statement-necklaces era of 2013 is coming back for us, a lot of things in my closet simply did not fit.

My body has changed. That’s what bodies do, and yet women, especially, have been raised to think this is both terrifying and shameful.

I don’t wear the overalls I sported at age five, so why am I expecting to fit in a bodycon dress from when I was 23 and absolutely ate Special K for dinner?

For a long time, I’ve fantasized about having a beautifully curated capsule wardrobe of good-quality basics, suspended from matching hangers that all face the same way. To get closer to that goal, I finally confronted my closet.

The process stirred up a lot of feelings, especially when I had to let go of more recent things that I still like. I started zeroing in all the ways in which my body is wrong. But then I discovered a small hack that makes this ordeal easier: make it about the clothes, not about your body.

I tried on every piece of clothing in my wardrobe. I appraised each item. Do I even like this? Would I buy it now? Where would I wear this? Why am I letting a skirt I don’t even really like and have worn exactly thrice make me feel bad about my knees? That’s too much power to give to a single-stitch polyester blend from Target, you know?

Also, did you know you can just wear clothes that actually fit you? I think a lot of people experience some duress about having to size up because it “says something” about them, when really it says nothing. Women’s clothing sizes are random to the point of meaninglessness. No one knows what size you’re wearing. More importantly, no one cares.

This is why I don’t believe in keeping aspirational clothes; there are so many other things to aspire to than fitting into a pair of who-cares jeans from 10 years ago. They don’t hand out the Order of Canada for wearing a certain size of dress. No one selects a best friend based on her hip-to-waist ratio.

No one’s obituary reads “we will miss her dearly because she was very thin.”

People talk about clothing sizes as though they are something to “be,” as opposed to something to wear. People say “I’m a size 8” the same way they say “I’m a chartered accountant.”

At least one of you is going to email me about this, but save your strength: it’s totally fine to have goals for your body. Your body is your business. I have goals for my body. My goals are making sure I move my meat husk at least once a day and “managing my stress” (unclear). My goals are not about fitting into an arbitrary, moving-target size the fashion industry has deemed desirable.

Sometimes giant butts are in. Sometimes they are not. Who can keep up?

The clothes that will look best on you are the ones you like and you feel comfortable in. I’m sorry, but (insert alliterative expletive here) “flattering.” Anyone can wear anything. Wear the crop top. Wear the caftan. Express your own style.

Of course, clothes aren’t always just clothes. They are vestiges of past selves. I’m old enough that some things in my closet could reasonably be described as “vintage,” though that seems like a lofty word to apply to Going Out Tops from Urban Outfitters circa 2007. But I did tuck away a few things for sentimental value.

At the end of this process, I ended up with a much smaller wardrobe of clothing that I feel confident in and that is far more reflective of my current personal style, as well as a much more discerning eye when it comes to shopping. And my hangers match.

jen.zoratti@winnipegfreepress.com