You know how after you watch an episode of Hoarders you just feel this pressing urge to clean something, anything, immediately? I recently checked out The Tao of Martha by Jen Lancaster from the library and within the first chapter of her describing her path to organization nirvana, I suddenly had to stop. And organize. Something. Anything, in my own house. My mind wandered to a task that I’ve been needing to work on for quite a while, my shoe closet organization. If you’ve been reading for a while you might remember when I repainted it when I was reeling in the emotional aftermath of losing my grandfather. I literally woke up, made a cup of coffee, and started tearing into this closet project. And that’s how it remained until this past week.
You see, I have devolved into wearing only one pair of black flip flops all summer that I bought at a sidewalk sale at Salty’s. Spongy Sanuks for $13? Yes, please! But I have a pretty substantial collection of shoes in my closet, mostly heels that I can’t wear to work anymore. I have a half mile hike from the parking lot to my office, and while I see some women making the trek in tall ones I just can’t bring myself to do it.
But the problem is that I do wear some of these heels on some occasions! Formal events, nights out, things like that, so I decided to box up some of the shoes and put them in the attic. That way, if I miss them they are only a stair climb away and if I don’t I can donate them next year. This is where I started:
And this is where I ended:
You can see the considerable space, with room for at least eight or nine more pairs to come in the future! This is the results of my culling, with the ones in the box going upstairs and the two on the outside going to be donated since I’ve had them for over ten years now and rarely wear them.
And of course every box going in the attic needs a label alerting me to its contents!
Yep, specific! Now I think it’s time to start looking for some new ones to class up my outfits and make me not blend in with the student population.