I went on a decluttering rampage today. OK, rampage probably isn't the right word, but I most definitely left a trail of destruction everywhere I was. It would've been just fine had I been alone in the house, but as the rest of the family was here, too, I managed to be quite the irritant. There were most definite signs of grouchiness when Dave would come in the bedroom to flop on the bed and it'd be covered with hangers, piles of clothes to donate, and piles to make experimental sewing projects with. And don't even get me started with when the boys walked in on me when I was trying on a questionable shirt or pair of pants. Gee, it's my room...the risk of entering without prior consent is implied.
Well, it was really, really easy deciding what to keep and what to get rid of. I was quite proud of myself. Easy, except for one dress. It's something I'll never wear again (I actually only wore it once), but, it's made of super-stretchy nylon and is PERFECT for Dave to wear when he wants to cross dress. Mind you this only comes up in late October...that I'm aware of anyway. I waffled back and forth about it. I knew if I got rid of it he'd try to squeeze into one of my little summer dresses and would be sure to ruin it. If I kept it it might sit in my closet for years and never, ever be dragged out again. Hmmmm...I could hide it in my big guy's closet, but gosh, what 16 year old wants his mom's (dad's) dress hanging in his closet. I barely get away with having my old motorcycle jacket and a furry leopard print blazer in there (by the way, I'm done with the leopard print blazer, anyone want it?), I don't think he'd be cool with a slinky dress with a mod print.
So, the dress remains in my closet, on my side...you know, just in case.