Ode to my clothes

Assuming everything goes as planned, we should be in possession of our condo next week.  We signed papers for our mortgage yesterday and then immediately went on a mini-shopping spree at west elm (well, almost immediately, we stopped for pho in between).  We bought cushions, decorative vases (teal glass, they’re gorgeous), a duvet and duvet cover, a shower curtain, and curtains.  We didn’t bother to decorate our apartment so this is our first attempt at interior design, and I hope we don’t screw it up.

I’m really excited about owning my first home, but the process has been exhausting.  I have a list as long as my arm of things to do, we’re having trouble with our lawyer, and I’m tired of paperwork.  It just makes me want to lie down.

Tori Amos, from the liner notes of “From the Choirgirl Hotel”

In preparation for the impending move, I’ve been going through my things and being ruthless with the purging.  If I don’t need it, if I don’t love it, it’s gone.  I’ve already given away piles of books and several bags of clothing, with potentially more to come (I may have to rein myself in so I don’t end up naked).  Every time I purge my clothes, I cringe at the number of impulse buys, never-worn items, and multiples, and I pledge to myself that I will be smart when I shop so I don’t consistently find myself in this situation.  I think I’m getting better, but if that’s the case, why do I have so many bags to give away every time?  I need to check in again in 6 months to make sure I’m not reverting back to old habits and purging clothes with their tags still on.

The clothes purging made me think of the Tori Amos song “Ode to My Clothes” (from A Piano: The Collection), which she wrote after her housekeeper mistook a garbage bag full of designer clothes intended for the dry cleaners as clothes to be given away.

somewhere in the hills of Ireland is a Prada bag
and somewhere down the lane
there’s a dog in Gucci lace
and sometimes I think that I will
lose sleep at night
cause it’s hard
yes it’s hard
to say good-bye to my clothes

my clothes
nobody knows things
like my clothes
my telephone-life in the
back of my jeans
nobody knows
how I feel today
how I feel today
so now
now that they’re gone
in the hills of Ireland
so long
so long
this was an ode
to my clothes

bye bye clothes

I’ve always loved her style and aesthetic, I kinda wish I’d been there that day. ;)

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