A couple days ago I stripped my closet clean. Okay, a couple weeks ago I contemplated that very idea and only daydreamed the execution into a delusional reality because that’s what I do. But today I discovered motivation deep in ManRepeller’s archive; a post about her 2011 trip to Paris with a gutsy (for the sake of choices, not lost luggage) single carry-on move, because shamelessly stalking girls I don’t know is another thing I do, especially when I don’t have Facebook to stalk girls I do know. One’s gotta wonder which is worse.
Anyway, that was that. Decision made. With famous Eminem lyrics that I continue to ruin with suburban-esque situations, I sing aloud to you, ‘I’m cleaning out my closet.’
Why does my closet insist on emulating a multiple choice test given by an eye-roll of a Professor, anyway? You know, the one where he adds an E when choices A through D only differ by their line on the page. Unless you’re Hermione Granger (@numberonemuggle with her second shout-out) inevitable room for error lies. My closet is one big inevitable room for error. Too many choices. Too many deceivingly correct choices. Too many statements already formulated for me. All pieces undoubtedly house boldness…but amongst the clutterfuck (I do not think that word is for me…) which pieces house the right boldness? You see. Error is lurking.
So, I’m cleaning out my closet and issuing myself an open ended test. One possessing questions that demand a correct answer in my own words…not someone else’s. Encouraging personal style and more importantly, in the
rare case I didn’t do my reading, room for bullshitting. Maybe that’s my goal here. Cultivate a closet with immense room for bullshitting. One where the answer isn’t written out for me, leaving no other choice than to work my innovation into something that makes sense (cue, cliche -but true- joke about my life , eh?). And if bullshitting just seems like too much work, because it often is, then I’ll choose an innately boring, architectural staple- knowing it’s not my best foot forward but at least it’s not a foot backwards. Or, go opposite and create an outfit that will leave people so lost they say WTF and accept it anyway. I took a psychology class once. Maybe, I’ll even gain honorable mention on a Buzzfeed list for insanely cool answers. A girl can dream, yo. I’m kidding. I hate Buzzfeed…they steal all my ideas. And instead of delivering a tangent of proof, I’ll go support Minnesota’s up and coming young hoarders by donating my closet to Goodwill. Stay tuned.