Out of (or Into) the Closet

Usually, I’m a very decisive person. Just ask the people I edit: “I know you love the way you wrote this scene, but it doesn’t move the story forward.” “That character’s interesting, but what does he do to bring the book to its conclusion?”

That decisiveness, however, hasn’t extended to my closet, especially for the past seven years. I had almost no disposable income between 2004 and late 2008, and didn’t get rid of anything that I could button or zip. Fortunately, I have a great best friend who periodically gave me a lot of things she or her other friends didn’t want anymore. They weren’t necessarily what I would have bought for myself but if they came close to fitting, I wore them.

My financial woes are a distant memory now, but I still don’t spend much on clothes, in large part because I truly had no idea what looked good on me, beyond that I get compliments when I wear pink or maroon or red. Another requirement: I need to be able to look in my closet at 6:40 a.m., say, “Yeah, that,” and still be out the door by 6:55. And, there’s a certain summer dress that’s black with tiny flowers that is never leaving my closet. In fact, when I die, whether I’m buried or cremated, put me in that dress.

So, I finally did what I tell writers they should do when they need help with their manuscripts. I hired a professional, Eileen Nelson. And in three hours, we went through the good (a black jersey jumper), the bad (short-sleeved jackets that went with dresses) and the ugly (sweaters that were once lovely but are now pilled to pieces; why didn’t I see that?).

Eileen gave me permission to get rid of the worn or ill-fitting stuff; a shopping list of what I truly need (classic and structured clothing); and great ideas on what to do to make what I have work better. She was direct, but also kind. I hope I’m like that with my clients.

And about that summer dress that’s black with tiny flowers? Eileen made it look fresh and wearable by adding a belt.