This past Sunday I sold my clothes for money. Those of you who know me know that it is very difficult for me to part with clothes. I think I finally got rid of my middle school stuff a few years ago and it became clear when I moved into my tiny but amazing apartment a couple months ago that it was time to part with the highschool clothing as well. It’s difficult for me to part with clothes because they have so many memories attached to them. I’ve mentioned before that I feel I’ve lived half a dozen different lives and sometimes it’s hard to remember who I am within all that craziness. It’s tricky to connect the dots. But the one thing that always remains constant are the clothes that have traveled with me throughout my ventures in Europe, the UK, and America.
One dress reminds me of starring in highschool plays, a jacket reminds me of my first college boyfriend, a sweater reminds me of an amazing trip to Italy, a tank of my drunken fiascos in Ireland, a skirt that I had my first NYC audition in, a pair of pants that I met my French ex in, and the list goes on and on and on. I have had so many different lives which I want to remember but I find the memories slipping away as time goes on. My clothes keep the stories alive. I can tell you where I accumulated every single piece of clothing that I have. From underwear and scarves to jeans and fancy dresses. Everything tells a story.
But when a couple of my friends told me they were having a sidewalk sale in Williamsburg for the clothes they were getting rid of, I sighed and realized it was time for me to join in.
They brought AMAZING brand named clothing. I brought the discounted bin of old tanks. I think I even threw in a couple socks and a bra. And even those were hard to part with. I sold everything for .50 to a dollar and I had sellers remorse each time someone bought something. I made $25 and my friends made over $200. It made me realize how much CRAP I have accumulated throughout the years. Things that I don’t even wear anymore but I still can’t part with. I need to go through my closet again and purge some more. Maybe even part with some of my semi- nice things that I don’t wear anymore. It’s time to cut the emotional ties and make room for new clothes along with new memories. Sometimes it’s just so hard to let go.
One dress reminds me of starring in highschool plays, a jacket reminds me of my first college boyfriend, a sweater reminds me of an amazing trip to Italy, a tank of my drunken fiascos in Ireland, a skirt that I had my first NYC audition in, a pair of pants that I met my French ex in, and the list goes on and on and on. I have had so many different lives which I want to remember but I find the memories slipping away as time goes on. My clothes keep the stories alive. I can tell you where I accumulated every single piece of clothing that I have. From underwear and scarves to jeans and fancy dresses. Everything tells a story.
But when a couple of my friends told me they were having a sidewalk sale in Williamsburg for the clothes they were getting rid of, I sighed and realized it was time for me to join in.
They brought AMAZING brand named clothing. I brought the discounted bin of old tanks. I think I even threw in a couple socks and a bra. And even those were hard to part with. I sold everything for .50 to a dollar and I had sellers remorse each time someone bought something. I made $25 and my friends made over $200. It made me realize how much CRAP I have accumulated throughout the years. Things that I don’t even wear anymore but I still can’t part with. I need to go through my closet again and purge some more. Maybe even part with some of my semi- nice things that I don’t wear anymore. It’s time to cut the emotional ties and make room for new clothes along with new memories. Sometimes it’s just so hard to let go.
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