i am tall -- almost 5'9" -- so i tend to steer clear of shoes with heels so i don't have to stoop to have a conversation with the rest of the population. this explains the absence of jimmy choo's and manolo blahnik's in my closet. yes. that and the fact that i would never in my freakin' life spend over $100 on a pair of shoes.
i like flats. i like comfortable shoes. but i did toss a pair of born slides today that i saw an old, old lady wearing. it bothers me that she and i bought the same shoes. it makes me feel like i am a hop, skip and a jump away from orthopedic shoes.
so anyway, i did my closet like the movie stars do it. one shoe out, one shoe in. i grouped browns together. blacks together. flip-flops in a basket. i found shoes i had forgotten about. now, if only i had someplace to go.......
i had so much fun (heavy with the irony here, people) doing my shoes, that my clothes just seemed ..... really sad hanging over there all harey-carey. and i remembered something my friend andy did with his clothes many years ago: he hung them by color. only his closet looked like a multiples set of crayons. greens! yellows! oranges! whites!
mine is a little more -- subtle. heavier on the blacks and whites. but hey, i like color. and here's a trick i learned many years ago. once i wear something, and wash it (or not), i hang it to the back of its section. that way i don't wear the same thing over and over again. this came about because when i was first married, i did laundry so often that i realized my husband only ever wore the same two undershirts over and over again. so i started moving the clean shirts to the bottom of the pile. i know, brilliant, right? it only took me 31 years to figure that one out. you're welcome!
and then there's my young son's closet. if he had it his way, he would wear camo pants every day. with a bright blue shirt. orange socks. and crocs. he just does not care. the other day on the way to school, i looked at him and realized he looked like a nut. his hair was . . . i don't even have words. i said, oh, your hair. it looks crazy.
he kept walking. i said, do you care?
he said, no. not really.
well, okay then. neither do i.
after he wears something and i wash it, i have to rotate it up to the top bar. the bar he can't reach. because he has favorites that he will just continue to pick, making it look as though he only owns three shirts. i told him this once, and you can guess what he said.
i don't care.
do you see the spongebob slippers? yes, well, he wore them to school one day. granted, it was pajama day and all, but most all the other kids wore sneakers. or slippers. normal slippers.
and his new baseball glove his dad ordered for him in the mail? three guesses what color it is.
brown? no.
black? no.
RED? yes.
did you know they made such a thing? they probably wondered who in their right minds would buy it. oh, WE WILL. and if it came in orange, i'm sure that would have been first choice.
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