One Professional Organizer, Two Organized Closets and Five Bags of Clothes
When I told people I was getting my closet professionally organized, people’s reactions can be largely grouped into:
….Do you really need that?
…I’ll come so I can tell you what clothes you need to get rid of
….Is she hiring??
To the first point, succinctly: yes. I do need it.
It’s really honestly all my sister’s fault. We shared a room growing up, so she was in charge of organizing and decorating. Or maybe it was my parent’s fault since they made us share the room? Anyway, definitely not my fault that I’m incapable of organizing, but it’s something I definitely want to be better about.
To point number #2, I dress like Miss Frizzle. #sorrynot
And #3… maybe one day!?
A bit about how I found myself a professional organizer.
Honestly, I fell into it. I was hanging out with a former coworker and I was chatting with his wife. She mentioned that she’s a professional organizer, and my eyes lit up. My closet is a hot pile of mess. Someone who will non-judgmentally help me organize?? Yes please.
Then because my life — not just my closet — is chaos, I forgot about it. Then Meghan slid into my DM’s one day and I was immediately sold. She’s The House Finch, and can cheerily come fix your chaos for you.
When she came for the free consult, I was honestly a bit embarrassed. My house was in disarray, and I was still feeling incompetent for needing to pay someone to come do something for me apparently everyone else is capable of on their own. But I committed to a day, and was excited for it to happen.
When she came back to organize my closet, she came bearing various storing units, hangers and a shoe holder. Then we began to dig through my clutter. It was both great and terrible. Clothes I had been given that were my dead grandparents, clothes that my friends and family had given me were just getting thrown into trashbags to be taken to Goodwill. In those bags were some ex’s clothes and sweatshirts left at communal houses I'd adopted. Clothes that reminded me of some really good times, and the opposite.
With every item, I had to remind myself that just because I loved it and it still fit, didn’t mean it still had a home with me. I pitted out SO MANY SHIRTS — which is also horribly embarrassing that I kept them all and would just wear them with cardigans — but barely could throw some out because I just liked them so much. It was cathartic and fun and happy and sad and awesome and tiring and I’m so glad it’s done (for now).
How do I feel now?
Immediately after, I was wholly exhausted. Still. It was a long four hours consisting of cleaning, making decisions and coming to terms that holding onto clothes isn’t holding onto the person or the memories. I also just had to overcome some hoarding tendancies. For example, when Meghan pushed me to get rid of some socks, you would have thought she was asking me to sell a kidney. What if I need these stretched out socks one day!?
However, as I settled in for the night, no longer in the midst of chaos, my perfect closet brought with it a bit of mental stillness.
Now a few weeks out, and it’s a beacon to me. My schedule is still overwhelming me, but I can at least find what shoes I want to wear to face all the chaos quickly now.