Pulling Weeds

We live in an old house, built in 1906, shortly after the World's Fair. It is a lovely home in a fine neighborhood with winding, tree-lined streets. The house, like its occupants, has tons of charm, private restful spaces, secret hiding places, even an abandoned stairway. Imagine the Swiss Family Robinsons' tree house. That's all to the good. On the downsdide, houses of this vintage have limited closet space.

While Mrs. W was away this past weekend, I began cleaning out one of three small closets I use. I don't want to give the wrong impression. The job is far from over, but I made a small dent, and along the way I was reminded that cleaning is good for the soul.

Fibber McGee's got nothin' on me

My reasons for undertaking this mission were two-fold. First, given that this is a walk-in closet, you have to be able to walk into it, in order to get to things at the back. Second, it's nice to separate the wheat from the chaff. If you are like me, you probably have a lot of stuff that doesn't fit or else never looked good in the first place. You may also do a lot of experimenting, as I do. Experimenting is all fine and good, but at some point, it's time to weed the garden. Closets can only hold so much.

Most of what needs to get tossed falls loosely into these three categories:

• Too old, finally worn out, hate to give them up, but . . .
• Doesn't fit.
• Purchased on a whim, wildly experimental, looks terrible, hate it, never worn.

Once you eliminate the offenders, the remaining items can shine. What a nice feeling it is to walk into a closet and know that everything you are looking at fits you. Also that the remaining items are there for a reason, having survived at least one round of serious culling. I don't know about you, but I don't have time in the morning to fuss and rustle with things that don't fit. Mrs. W. is a big proponent of "a place for everything and everything in its place". Searching for lost items, my kids learned early on that if it wasn't nailed down, mommy probably gave it away to Goodwill.

As Mies van der Rohe said, "Less is more."