In some ways, my wardrobe is an analog to my life. If parts of my wardrobe are not working, it is likely parts of my life are not working; if my wardrobe is completely out of control … I’m in trouble!
Presently, circumstances in my husehold are complicated. I need to simplify. Thus, when I started pulling my fall wardrobe items out to work them into my dresser, the thought train looked something like this:
I have really great navy sneakers AND my brown ones are kinda tired looking AND my painting shoes are white, which shoe color doesn’t suit my idiom AND if I throw away the white ones and demote the brown ones, I still always have something to wear (but I would only have to store two pairs instead of three) AND I have an opportunity to simplify my decision process.
And then, all of a sudden, this simple philosophy crystallized: Painting, or gardening or dog-walking, clothes should be favorite leisure clothes with minor damage. They should not be perfectly good clothes that I don’t like anymore; they should not be rags.
In the scene shop weekly, with a group of peers, I wear painting clothes. I should look like myself.