Closet space

Today I tackled the task of unpacking my autumn/winter wardrobe.

As I bumped my head on the overhang in the little cupboard under the stairs, lugged the large red suitcase out and upwards, wrestled it (assisted by two overly-excited dogs!!!) onto the bed, opened it and groaned at the disarray that I discovered within, I mourned the loss of my very large and spacious dressing room back in South Africa.

The job of taking all of my summer clothes off their hangers and folding them into neat little piles (just don’t comment on my very obvious, vehement denial of the reality that they will be just as creased and jumbled as the winter ones after six months packed away) to be thrown out, passed on, or stored until Spring was tedious and, if I’m honest, a little disheartening.

Some of my favourites have worn too thin and will not see another season.
Some of my purchases this season have been plain desperate or ridiculous and declared me wasteful – or tasteless!
Some of my staples just seemed so boring and tired and old and I wondered if people had thought I looked that way each time I wore them.

And the work of unpacking started off no better!

“Why on earth did I even keep that?” I muttered.
“I wonder if that will still fit ….” I despaired.
Then “OOOOOOOH” as my fingers touched the warmth of merino wool and my eyes spotted the beautiful black ruched dress that I had bought towards the end of last season.

Suddenly, it was an adventure to pull out each garment. To find old favourites. To try things on and discover that they were in fact a little looser. To screw my nose up at a ghastly colour and wonder what on earth had prompted that particular purchase. To see how, in 6 months, I have changed. And how I have stayed the same. To put things in order, slowly. To accomplish something that I have been putting off since the first cool wind blew our way.

As I hung up the last few items, I realised what a spiritual exercise the afternoon had been because the whole rhythm of my life has changed since the cherry blossoms bloomed, then fell.

I wonder what this season holds in store for me. How, when next I lug that shiny red suitcase up the stairs, life will be different. What new things will have become old favourites? What old favourites will I have outgrown? What will I regret? What will I want to treasure and hold on to? What will I be ready to put away? What will I discover anew with fresh delight?

Are you due for a closet clean-out too?

About Yvonne Ghavalas

A minister in the Uniting Church in Australia, sharer of stories, sandwich enthusiast, seeker, and sometimes fool (archaic), sporadic blogger at

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s