Culling the clothes in my closet down to the basics (or close to it) and am amazed at how clearly I associate an item with a period in my life.
Finally getting rid of the last suit I'd bought for my freelance work that required office attire. The suit was an Isaac Mizrahi for Target (obviously I didn't want to commit) yet I'd sent it to the tailor as if it were one of my better pieces (no offense Mr. Mizrahi, or Target) and it looked fabulous. The last time I wore it was for a crisis PR assignment. When I walked into the room and all the anxious faces turned to look at me, I remember feeilng confident and ready to roll. And in the end, crisis averted.
But that was years ago and I'm finally over that part of my life: fashion has moved on, my bum has moved on, and more importantly, I have moved on. I have come to grips with the fact I no longer require power suits or leather briefcases. And while I'm also not into bumming around town in yoga pants (though that's another closet I ought to cull soon) I'm feeling better about letting go of the last vestige of those fulfilling but complicated years.
Now looking foward to filling the closet with new clothes for my new adventure, whatever that may be.