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Okay, so “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again?” I know nobody cares and I’ve already mentioned it, but IT IS SO FUCKING GOOD. Oh my god. You should go read it. It’s really really just astoundingly, like life-alteringly amazing. So, so, so funny in many many many places and just made me BAWL, not just cry but BAWL, for like eight minutes after I finished it, though the last six or so of those were probably just “I wish he hadn’t been so sad” bawlings. And actually, now that I’m looking it up and trying to find a copy of it online, I keep finding references to people talking about how hilarious it was, and it was really, really funny, but it was also totally and obviously heart-wrenchingly horrifiying, and I’m worried now suddenly that I’m only thinking this in hindsight, with him dead and all? But this essay was obviously about pure black depression, right? And death-avoidance? I’m not wrong about that, or only seeing it in retrospect, I think. I have a printout of “Hapworth 16, 1924,” but I still haven’t read it. I feel kind of like that about the rest of this book of essays (“A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again” was the last in the book but the first one I read).

Blarg, whatever. You should go read this essay (which is called “Shipping Out” here, in Harper’s) immediately because it’s really really really really really good. That is all.

Woooo! Yay last of the closet cleaning!!! All the hanging stuff and all the shoes, from both closets!

Uh, before:

Jackets: 43% GONE!
Robes: 100% GONE! FUCK YES. Okay, so that was one robe. STILL.
Shirts: 22% GONE!
Tank tops: 33% GONE!
Dresses: 31% GONE!
Skirts: 15% GONE! Though I feel like I actually may have lost count on this one, frankly.

I don’t know how much better that may look to the untrained eye, but that shit is a VAST improvement.

And then, ugh, god, shoes.

Okay. This is, admittedly, an issue.

My rule is that I will not keep anything that I will not wear. Nothing that hurts too much to wear, nothing that I cannot imagine having a reason to wear, nothing that is too worn out to wear, nothing ugly, nothing out of style (that I can’t claim will be back in style), nothing too stupid to bear. I will allow myself to keep things that are impractical, because otherwise I would be left with only one pair of black flats and my running shoes. I will allow myself a few “storage shoes” that may someday be taken by Lauren’s fashionable and hypothetical future daughters. I will keep those green velvet wedges that Ian hates with an inexplicable passion.

So.

Shoes: 47% GONE!

That’s not bad, damnit. That’s 50 pairs kept out of 94. I…almost didn’t admit that. Ian points out that this means I could have gone the entire summer without wearing any pair of shoes twice. He had guessed, before I counted, that I had 100 pairs, but I sure proved him wrong!! Wow. If I was being super-fair and rotation-y I would only be able to wear each of those four times a year! Yikes. That’s…sad? I mean, sad for my shoes, that I don’t get to wear them each more often. Not sad for me. It’s AWESOME for me. 50 pairs is many fewer. I am good at owning not-very-many pairs of shoes!

I now have a dedicated shoe closet! Weird. This may make it even harder for me to ever actually put my shoes back where they belong at the end of the day?

And holy crap I can even close the door!!

Hardest thing to get rid of:

I’m not totally positive, but I think these might be the first pair of Chucks I ever owned. I think I bought these in middle school, from some weird giant overstock-type sale at West Ridge Mall in Topeka, Kansas, and I felt like a FUCKING ROCK STAR. I still do in Chucks. If I ever really did have to survive on only one single pair of shoes? Chucks. Obviously. Low-top. Probably black. Anyway, these finally got trashed, but not until after I’d cut the tongue and side-vents out of one them, as a souvenir.

It was also kind of weirdly hard to get rid of some of these old things that I could kind of talk myself into believing were “90s retro.” (I did get rid of them, though. Those wedges were the hardest to get rid of, despite their extreme and unmitigated ugliness.)

Also this damn jacket, which I think I’ve worn like TWICE but which is SO GREAT. I SHOULD wear it more. I should TRY! It’s just…a weird temperature, and slightly too tight, and…I dunno. Kinda steampunk-y/Mina Harker-y great! And has good pockets! But. Pff. What do you wear it with? Should you wear something under it? What? Is it a jacket, or a shirt? No one knows.

I kept it. I don’t know.

Easiest thing to get rid of:

The Least Comfortable Pair Of Shoes Ever.

You know how sometimes, with really strappy heels with tiny thin straps, it’s like there are razor blades embedding themselves into your instep? Well these were like that, except THE STRAPS ARE MADE OF METAL. Why would anyone design a shoe like this??? It is a mystery. These are the only shoes that have ever made me walk barefoot on the sidewalk in New York City. I have NO IDEA why I still own these shoes. They’re gone, gone, gone now.

Most delusional moment:

“I bet somebody will totally want these hand-sewn dresses and shirts! I spent a lot of time on them and was really proud of them for a while, before I got good enough at sewing to realize they weren’t really very good! I’m sure they’ll be appreciated for that!”

So, uh. I didn’t take the photos of the stuff I’m trying to give away yet, but get ready for a whole lot of THAT.

Also, EXTRA BONUS CLOSET PS!! Ian cleans!

Well, fine. So his took him exactly 15 minutes and 12 seconds (he timed it), but mine is folded nicer! And also ps YES, he has about 14 inches of hanging closet space, and I have two closets – so what of it, mister?

Okay, I’m making a New Year’s Resolution right now!! (Since when has my blog become some kind of self-improvement storehouse? Weird.) I am totally going to remember everybody’s birthdays from right now on, and everyone will think it’s awesome because I’m going to be the good friend and everyone will be like, “Oh, that Jessica, she always remembers people’s birthdays!” It’s going to be awesome.

So. If I have ever met you before, ever, or if I’ve not met you but I vaguely know your name because you’re, like, Shena’s or Isley’s friend or something, or if you’re an Internet Person that I would claim to know, send me your birthday! And I know everybody’s like, “Oh, then it looks like I’m asking for presents,” or something, and you’ll be all shy and not want to do it, but that makes you a jerk, so do it anyway. Either leave it as a comment or send me an email. My email is my first initial and last name at gmail. And send me your address, too, because otherwise what’s the point. Send send send. Now. Even if you think I already know it, because I probably forgot it.

Love,

Jessica!

Ugh. It’s too hot to tackle the meat of what’s left here – hanging clothes and shoes. That’s my excuse, anyway. So today I farted around with bags and purses.

I know this looks bad, but it’s inside the closet, shoved up into every nook and cranny, where the real horror lies:

That’s a real vintage* fur shoved in there haphazardly against the soles of my shoes and my polyester quilt batting. Nice. Also two never-worn Gaultier** party dresses. That sounds impressive. But I’m too embarrassed not to insist you go look at that footnote like, right now.

Purses: 70% GONE!
Wallets: 25% gone
Shopping bags: 16% gone (ugh – it should be 50%, but I’m having a weirdly difficult time getting rid of anything that says “Skadden” on it, for some reason)
Clutches: 0% gone (um…because I go to so many fancy-dress parties where I don’t need to bring my camera so often?)
Um…other…things (knitting bags, coin purses, wall hangings?, random cloth-container-type-things): 54% GONE!
Fake IDs owned by Ian, discovered in old wallets: 0% gone. Adorbs.

Oh. I just realized that this count doesn’t include the 3 burlap rice bags with handles and zippers that I thought would make great purses and never used, and which I was still unable to get rid of, so threw onto my fabrics pile and will likely still never use. Does that count as “kept” or “gone?”

Hardest thing to get rid of: A very old, extremely beat-up, plain black purse. “Yes but what if I have a black purse emergency!” I kept thinking (the only three purses I kept are bright yellow, bright red, and bright green, respectively). Then I asked myself, very seriously, what exactly a “black purse emergency” was. A funeral? A job interview…where they would judge me harshly for my red purse? I think I can safely say that I am the kind of person who will never, ever have a “black purse emergency” in my life. That’s a good thing.

Yes, but actual hardest thing to get rid of: This:

It’s not even pleather, it’s so plasticy. It’s thin, torn, scuffed, lining-challenged. It’s roughly hand-mended in a mis-matched threated. I cannot remember now whether this was something that my older sister owned and which I coveted passionately until, one magical day, in a fit of sisterly largess, she bestowed it upon me, or whether I just stole it from her closet. Either way – LOVE. Love love love, or at least, loved. I used this purse, hard, for a long time. If…anybody wants it? It’s available. I imagine that the Salvation Army won’t want it. I dunno…maybe I could cut it up and use it for something else? Oh, purse. I’m going to be HARDCORE. I am NOT going to keep it. (I am not!)***

Anyway. Anybody want these? They’re hand-sewn, and cute, and well-enough-made, but kind of failures, in that they’re too small for real use, kind of. Maybe little kids would like them? The lining on the one is just effing GREAT. But I never knew what to do with them.

Also, found this in a schwag bag I was throwing away:

I swear, never-before-worn! That’s why they were still in the bag I got them for free in, shoved into the closet. They’re a medium, and slightly annoying, gender-representation-wise, and smell like my closet, but they look comfortable! If you want them, they’re yours.

No “after” pictures today, because that closet is such an effing wreck that I’m not putting anything back into it until the rest of it gets cleared out. We’re supposed to be getting a hurricane this weekend. Maybe I’ll be rained in and willing to tackle it all in one last fell swoop.

* Incidentally – “vintage” is noted only because it makes me feel even guiltier that I’m abusing a vintage piece, not because I’m trying to defend my ownership of fur. Because…I dunno. Fur. You know. I don’t have to defend myself.

** COUGH FOR TARGET COUGH

*** I will try really hard not to.

I found this year-long planner in the green room. I actually found it a while ago – I didn’t just straight-up steal it out from under anybody; it’s been sitting there for a lot of months. It’s almost entirely blank. These are the entries, in order:

If you can’t read that, and I barely can, it says something like “into the vast emptiness of Antarctica travel for 7 days and still no living creature not even an Alien.” Each one is a little different, but that’s about the heart of the matter.

Okay. So. First of all, this is, I swear, real. I actually found this. But, on the other hand, I actually found it in the green room. Is it possible that this is a prop? Yeah. I guess so. Do I care? Not much. The only question is: keep it as-is, as a lovely relic? Or creatively fill in the blank days and then hide it in the department library? Or DON’T fill in the blanks first? Is it too nice to mess up? Add an email address in there, in case anybody ever finds it, so I know? Or don’t, to keep it more realistic? Sigh. Art is hard.

So. I’m getting into the more difficult sections of my closet. Ugh. Avoiding the home-made-dress-section like the plague; just cannot deal with it. It’s going to be too hard to throw stuff away. So. Today: tiny top-most shelf, shelf above hanging stuff, back wall, and um, the plastic bag full of scarves and things that is hanging on a doorknob in my sewing room:

These shelves were very full of random crap, a few treasures I had forgotten I owned, winter scarves, Barbie dolls, the tags I tore off of new things the day I wore them and couldn’t be bothered to walk to a trash can, and the skinny-clothes pile. (Good news? I can fit into most of it! Bad news? It’s all out of style.)

Skirts: 45% GONE!
PJs: 0% gone, but only out of 1.
Hats: 56% GONE!
Belts: 33% GONE!
Boxed fondue gift sets: 0% gone, duh.
Barbies: 0% gone, duh.
Gloves: 25% GONE!
Pretty scarves: 9% gone
Winter scarves: 0% gone
Tops: 58% GONE!
Bags: 100% GONE! Wheeee! (Only out of 2, though.)
Pants: 67% GONE!
Suspenders: Well, 0% gone, and I never wear them, but you know.
Pashminas: 75% GONE! Pashminas are such a good idea, but who the fuck actually WEARS them?
Gingerbread house building kits: 0% gone. What the hell else am I supposed to eat with my fondue?

(I would like to take a moment here to point out that that one top-most shelf that is still in disarray is Ian’s, not mine. So there. I’m not the only one.)

I also bought a couple new skirt hangars and stuff this weekend, so as soon as I have everything cleared out and thrown away, I’m also going to be able to go through and re-arrange and stuff. Right now, my I have two different stacks of skirts on two different shelves, plus some hanging.

I have more up-for-grabs things! First, shitloads of hats!

Giant comfy decently-nice wool hand-knitted thing you’ll be slightly embarrassed to wear, and a too-small, also-I-ran-out-of-green-yarn-most-of-the-way-through-so-there’s-a-red-stripe version of the Best Hat Ever:

Also! Red hat which would be awesome were it not for the weird holes which will give you a crazy tan, crazy prairie hat I guess which literally came from the costume shop, and A PLEATHER COWBOY HAT.

I really do hope someone wants that cowboy hat. Because…christ, I’ll probably keep it if no one takes it, and no one needs that. It’s just SO RIDICULOUS. Someone must need this hat. Someone who is not me.

Also, four different versions of I guess this is sort of a bicyclist’s hat? I was trying to re-create a great one which I had sewn for myself and then promptly lost, but literally every single one of these fits me incorrectly in a different way. (Specify whether your head is too small, too big, too tall, or too short upon ordering.)

Also, a random assortment of four different slightly-slutty tank tops:

One pair of leggings out of a two-pack (I hate leggings and bought these accidentally, thinking they were tights. I have no idea where the second pair went to. I definitely never wore them.)

This, uh, clutch purse? This is actually something that I borrowed from a friend I don’t see anymore. I doubt she was sad to see it go, though. In fact…we may have friend-broken-up just specifically so she could get rid of this bag.

And this shirt, which christ, isn’t THAT bad, and I’d like to not hate, but…there’s just something about it that keeps me from wearing it. I don’t particularly like the feel of the dots, and the shape is really weird on me. I’ve tried to fix it like twice now. I dunno. Maybe someone else could rock it?

Woooooo top shelf. This is all very exciting. I asked Ian today if he thought this new line of blogging was boring, and he said no, because his house was getting cleaner. Maybe I will come over to all of your houses and clean them and then you will be less bored.

Cardigans: 11% gone (I’m a cardigan person. I really, really thought I would get rid of a bunch of cardigans. I got rid of one.)
Dress tshirts: 37% GONE! (Not counting 6 that were reserved for the mend/alter pile to try to make underpants out of. Damn you, mend/alter pile! You will be the death of meeeee!!)
Athletic tshirts: 25% GONE! (God, I never wear these. I have no idea why I kept any of these. The 3 gone are only the 3 I’m trying to foist off onto you poor assholes, too, anyway.)
Yes but athletic tshirts which are sentimental because they are from concerts or I got them volunteering or Ian wore them when he was 16 or they were gifts or something: God, 0% gone. (I’m such a sucker. I’m at least going to put them in a box in the basement or something.)
Long-sleeved tshirts: 43% GONE!
Sweaters: 36% GONE!

God there’s so much rooooooooooooooooom!! I just love looking at it. And I’m totally going to buy a bunch of new skirt hangars and hang all those skirts up, and hopefully if there’s room hang some of those shirts, too. So they’re gonna be even bare-er and all inviting. I’ll be able to buy so many new things!!

Hardest to get rid of: One particular cardigan of the absolute perfect size, perfect fit, perfect stretch, perfect warmth, perfect softness. Holes in both elbows. Ugh. I was weak. I put it on the mend/alter pile. I don’t know. Elbow patches, maybe?? I’ve tried to replace it! Nothing else is as nice! We’ll see. If it’s not fixed by October 1, I’ll trash it, swear. (Ditto all the “underpants” shirts – if I haven’t cut them up in a month, they’re trash.)

Also! I finally got to some stuff that is interesting enough and/or sentimental enough and/or in good enough shape and/or something something to give away! Like, I figure you guys can find your own random Gap dress pants. But where else are you going to get a MATCHING SET of Benjamin Franklin t-shirts, eh? EH???

So. Up for grabs:

One Kurt Cobain sweater, never worn by me, but acquired second-hand. It’s a “Kurt Cobain sweater” because it’s very thin and looks comfortable and has a few artistically-placed holes around the neckline and sleeve seams. Someone needs to be wearing it with a flower-print dress and combat boots and a stupid hat. That person is just not me, is all. Tavi, if you’re reading this, you might be interested? There’s no tag, but it’s probably a men’s small or a women’s medium? It’s droopily slim on me, not tight.

Also this tshirt, endearingly unevenly hand-lettered on a small Hanes. This was HILARIOUS when I first made it, I assure you. Too sweet to throw away, and the Salvation Army doesn’t want it.

And last and best of all, pair of Benjamin Franklin t-shirts, bought for $1 each and never worn. These, obviously, MUST go as a pair, preferably to a happy couple, though if they are adopted by one person whose love for Benjamin Franklin is just twice as strong as normal? That’s okay, too. Also, though, these were originally bought for Vivid Booby and Ben Clover Lane, but then I decided it was too stupid and I got embarrassed and didn’t send them, so if they’re out there reading this and they want them, they get first dibs! Youth M and Youth XL, but they’ll fit Vivid Booby and Ben Clover Lane, I think.

Yayyyy Day 2 of the Consumerist Shame Project!

First of all – much, much love for the idea that a lot of people are doing this, and that we can send each other some of the clothes we are getting rid of. Kind of…ruins the point, maybe. But still! Free clothes! How can we do this? First of all, if you send before and after photos or project updates or whatever, I can post them, and we can all update together and whoever does the best GETS A SUPER SUPRIZE PRIZE (which may or may not be a deodorant-stained tshirt full of holes, I haven’t decided yet). I don’t know how to do the swaps. I’m happy to post all the offerings here, if you want to send descriptions or whatever to me?

So. Day 2 and I’m starting to tackle those shelves. Or…that was the intention, but then I panicked, and scaled back to only “bottoms” on the shelves. Shirts and sweaters tomorrow! The vast majority of these shelves were made up of kind-of-dressy work pants that I used to wear to work every day in NYC, and these weird ugly wide-legged mid-calf-length dress-pants-material things that I was apparently in LOVE with at some point, but which I now suddenly realize make me look about 5 feet tall and 4 feet wide. (I…kept one pair. Only one! They’re comfortable!!) I had seriously straight-up forgotten I even owned these, much less SEVEN PAIRS OF THEM.

Jeans: 11% GONE! (Who knew I owned 17 pairs of jeans?? That seems like so many! I feel like I only wear 3 of them. And yet I could only get rid of 11%. Bah.)
Skirts: 53% GONE!
Workout pants: 0% gone. (What? So I’m an optimist.)
Work pants: 66% GONE!
PJs: 0% gone. (Oh, I only had two. They’re FINE.)
Weird ill-fitting short pants I apparently loved for some reason: 72% GONE!

Should have taken a better before pic. Oh wellsies. Also, granted, the level of cleanliness there is a bit of a cheat, given that I also removed a couple pairs of shoes (cough), the cats’ bath towel, and two old bookbags from that bottom shelf. But most of that (cough) is getting tossed/Salvation-Army-ed too, so I think it counts.

Okay, and I lied about only keeping one pair of the weird short pants. I kept two. One of them went into the “mend/alter” pile, though – I think I can make them skinny, like in a whole Audrey Hepburn kind of way? Admittedly, of course, this “mend/alter” pile will presumably be the death of the project. I will never, ever, ever actually get around to mending/altering these things.

Most Delusional Moment: Four years ago, when I was pretty sure those short pants looked kicky and cute.

Hardest Thing To Get Rid Of: The Dumpy Skirt, previously featured on ABIAT for its world-class dumpiness.

And…I didn’t get rid of it. I ALMOST gave the Dumpy Skirt away. I had resolved too. Look at me waving goodbye! But eff it. That’s one of the first skirts I ever made. I love my dumpy-ass skirt!

I also have one sad little “maybe.” It’s a skirt I sewed myself (and I was VERY proud of myself for actually throwing away some of the things I made myself! Just because I spent a long time on them doesn’t mean they’re not HIDEOUS). It’s comfortable (very stretchy), and I like the print on the fabric. It has a weird fishtail on it which might be cute? Or if not, might be fixable, anyway? And the hem always flips up, but I bet I can fix that, too? Ugh. Probably just the fact that I’m hemming and hawing means I should get rid of it? Internet? Thoughts?

Anyway. Nothing worth selling in this batch, and not much worth giving away (unless you’re actually into that mid-calf wide-leg thing. In which case, seriously, I have a whole box of joy for you). I’m pretty pumped to donate these pants to Dress for Success or something like that, though frankly, my stuff might not even be nice enough?

Actually, speaking of, should I be donating to the Salvation Army? They’re the nearby-est, but aren’t they all Christian in an anti-gay way or something? Or am I making that up? Anybody know of a better place or way to donate clothes?