Hey, everybody! How’s tricks? A comment from Elise yesterday made me think that it’s high time I show you guys where and how I store my clothing–not that any of it is a shining example of storage ingenuity, but at least you’ll get TRUE MIA REALNESS. (True Mia Realness may involve some sloppiness, because I am kind of an untidy person. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)
The main body of my clothing lives here, in the hall closet. I generously let Mike have the smaller bedroom closet, so this one’s all mine. From left to right, we have heavy coats, jackets, blazers, cardigans, scarves, shirts, and other tops. Tall boots (plus miscellaneous junk) live on the floor. See that big brown suitcase? That’s currently where I’m storing my warmer sweaters and skirts, and that’s where the thinner shirts and skirts will go when the weather finally changes and I swap things out. Some tops and skirts are year-round versatile and live on the racks all the time.
If you peek in a little bit, you can see the closet extends to include skirts and dresses. Sometimes I keep things in color order; now is not that time.
Also in the living room, we have an Ikea EXPEDIT; although I know this looks like a bottomless black portal to Hell, I promise it’s the cube where I keep my tights and thigh-high socks. (Okay, maybe it also does double-duty as a Hellmouth, what do I know?) I also have a cube for belts and a cube for bras, underwear, and regular socks, but I’ll spare you those.
In the bedroom, I have my own little half-size chest-of-drawers-type-thing: the open top holds necklaces, bracelets, rings, and headbands (and Mike’s alarm clock, that’s what the black box is), the first drawer holds earrings, the next drawer holds junk, the third holds casual t-shirts, the next two hold shorts and work pants, and the bottom holds pajamas. Not pictured here is Mike’s larger chest of drawers, of which I have also
stolen borrowed two drawers to hold 1) camisoles and layering tees and 2) jeans, although the jeans drawer could probably be done away with, now that I only own three pairs after the Great Jeans Purge of ’12.
Finally, we have my Shoe Mess. Don’t do this to your shoes, people, treat them with more respect than I do. This container was originally meant to be stored under beds, but when we got it home it became immediately apparent that it will only fit under beds that aren’t ours. So it lives in the corner of the bedroom, looking goofy and awkward, because I’m too busy/lazy to figure out something better.
It’s kind of funny, because I don’t normally think of myself as having a lot of clothes, but I guess it is a lot, isn’t it? It makes me feel strange and self-conscious to admit that. I actually had some trouble confronting this last night while taking these pictures, because I have a knee-jerk reaction to assign a moral system to objects–so obviously if I own a lot of clothes I’m not as good a person as someone who owns less. I know I’m not the only person who struggles with that feeling, and it’s at least partially tied to the general media portrayal of women who enjoy shopping and own a lot of clothing as being shallow, vain, selfish, materialistic, and intellectually bereft. And we already know that’s not true! Not intrinsically true, anyway. I’m sure there are plenty of shallow, vain, etc. people who also own a lot of clothing, but correlation does not equal causation, any more than seeing a tall person kick a puppy means that all tall people kick puppies. (Right, Gracey?)
It’s still something that I personally have trouble with, though; as with many things, it’s easier to give other people a break than to give myself one, and I do catch myself saying and thinking things about my own circumstances that I would never say to someone I cared about. (Working on it, working on it…)
Like Sal says in her post on “How much clothing should a person own?”, everyone has a different level of “need,” and bringing “should” into the equation breeds judgement and comparison. Like, whew! so long as I don’t own as much clothing as that person over there I’m fine! But this person over here still has less than me, so they’re better. They’re winning. Winning at what? This train of thought becomes so dangerous and nonsensical so quickly, doesn’t it? It’s not productive, and it certainly doesn’t make me happy, so I’m doing my best to derail that train when it starts choo-chooing through my head. So: yes, I do own a lot of clothes. And this is how I store them! And that’s that.