I have so! many! styles of shoes in my closet that it has just plain stopped being funny. I am edging into Imelda Marcos territory and I do not find it funny in the least.
This past Sunday, I woke up with an urge to clean my closet/dressing room. This room was laughably called a “third bedroom” in the house specs, but unless I was going to shove a day bed and a cupboard in there for imaginary guests, it was a pretty useless little room. The house is not exactly over full of storage options either, and Sacco and I are both clothes horses. We decided that he could have the cupboards in the spare room and the master, and I would turn the tiny room into my area.
While I was shoving things to and fro and bitching at particle board shelving units, I decided some of my gear needed a new home. I have moved on from a suit every day job to a business smart but casual job and have a TON of things I no longer even glance at. I purged in June when we moved into the new house, but I never touched the shoe section. What a good place to start.
I wound up tossing about 7 pairs that had obvious defects or were just “done” and found 8 pairs that were still vital and needed a new home. I was just going to do a dump and go job at Good Will, but I saw the bag sitting at the door this morning and took it to the office. SOMEONE I work with should have the same size foot I do right?
The picture above is what is left. I gave some lovely grey plaid wool mary janes to one gal and two CFMs to my office neighbor. All shoes had been worn a TOTAL of perhaps three days. Two of the pairs pictured above have never even been worn. Just bought and tucked away.
I have gotten LOADS better with impulse shopping when it comes to clothing. I know, love, and embrace Good Will and Salvation Army stores these days, and only go Maul shopping when the sales are sweet. This purge is making me face the harsh truth that some strides are needed when I do my SHOE shopping.