NO LONGER LOVED BUT MISSED MUCH



 Sometimes I feel that in lack of life attractions of sorts, we humans kind of complicate our lives simply. We ruin completely satisfactory environment around us, blissful state of order (with the accent on blissful) by unnecessary activities and straight from the sofa, dining table or better first thing in the morning not even looking for another slipper, there is this job to be accomplished immediately. So the laundry fiercely flies, drawers bang, life has a meaning again. Then a distraction shows up and the leftover mess in its perfect indecent form is like a spear to the eye each time a thing is pushed, moved with a touch of foot, acknowledged only for the purpose of making a way around it. Days pass, Facebook notifications multiply but the task started with such feverish willingness gets completely ignored if not shoved under To-Do-List of an unknown future or better delegated to the first empty handed in the household. But no, you'll do it better yourself, it was such a great idea, everything planned and sorted in your grey cells so it's either you or nobody or walls will collapse, there's no other way.

So it lays there, breathes and stares like a trapped animal: piles of bills, receipts, stacks of laundry, unmade compositions of kitchenware, possibilities as the Greeks and Romans would say - are astonishingly endless. This is when life gets complicated. And it was avoidable, perfectly arrangable in parts or time lapses or just freakishly unnecessary at this stage of life. Or morning. So finally the consciousness gets its say using few strong words and an exclamation mark because at this point it no longer feels right. What was promising an outcome of a pinnable value, no longer has any value at all, just a chore to be done with ethically and without exhaustion. I too, was skilfully fooled by my conscious, perfectionist mind and dived head deep in sorting out a six years worth of clothing stored neatly and reasonably aired in the loft of our flat. Don't touch if you're not willing to commit, comes to mind. If it only was that simple.
 


 The task had potential, I had a vision but was prone to self exploitation. Nonetheless went for it like a shopaholic into new season. Sorting by age, garment or designer? I eventually settled on well thought out compositions of outfits to take home with open arms and love for each button and sequin. Add a temporary position as a photographer, assistant leg cramp massageur and wading away from the war field of clothes not making sense together at all was the way to give in. But postponing sounds better and indicates some effort already put in so postponing we'll account for. It was fun, don't get me unrealistically wrong. I thrived in fluffing ruffles of dresses while expanding their hems for the best pictures. Pre-worn but still in their prime, I had to show them off before agreeing on returns. I mixed and matched focusing on the visuals and good light predominantly. Sometimes combined it with the thrill of an added bonus, free pre-loved toy or head band securing the sale. But having a date with six years worth of cotton, wool and polyester blend while maintaining a regular existence and frequent bathroom visits was a call for a total disaster.

I had another go at those abandoned, unsold crammed pieces recently to demonstrate my maturity and it was also time for deep cleaning, so you understand. Clothes had to be sorted and decided upon to go through Facebook sale pages or seasonal markets happening in the area exactly from this month until the last empty rack. It was kind of a relief to end up with a few bags of folded, signed samples ready for girls in the best age groups for sheer, sequined and Disney themed.


►► As a treat I'll walk you down memory lane - little Nadia wearing the very butterfly top I held with a tear in my eye last week (shown above)

►► Hey, that dress used to fit me! (see below)


Six years of collecting colourful clothes to find out the hues will no longer excite. So we've started stocking on soft blue which sound crazy and special and unreal at the same time. Another pretty thrilling experience of sorting through in near future. It can be done exceptionally well, just don't get it our of control ;).

Above all it was a fantastic time of reminiscing. Holding fabrics a pureed rice was once all over them can compare to very few nice things in life. Or when seeing how she's outgrown the dresses and tops, come all those feelings of each milestone happening while wearing them - a true blessing in a simplest form. Not each and every piece found a new closet, we I made sure to leave a few of the dearest for future comparisons and sweet talks about the squishiest arm and leg rolls showing off in the softest of cotton. x

2 comments:

  1. Old clothes do bring back so many memories. I have a hard time giving or throwing them away :(

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, it is hard but sometimes the space sets the rules. I've left a few pieces though. x

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