The wardorebe closet

Yesterday in the unfriendly town it was a holiday (granted by King Charles III for his coronation) and what did I do? I changed my wardrobe.

Motivated by the sunny day, focused on the heat that might come, and also because it was something I had to do sooner or later! No reference to “The Chronicles of Narnia,” but a simple task.

Simple, they say…but actually quite tiring. In short, it was such a drag…let’s be honest. Not so much for my things, but for my husband’s (I also had to deal with his stuff).

When I was sick and spent months in various hospitals and in bed, I had a compulsive shopping problem…I bought everything (especially clothes, shoes, and bags). Before leaving for London, I put many things up for sale because they were a bit sad, or anyway bought without a purpose but to try not to think about what was happening to me (exaggerated shopping where, of course, e-commerce was the real protagonist). So, my suitcases for London contained few things, let’s say that I had reduced and downsized my wardrobe.

So I thought. Damn, yesterday I found things that I didn’t even remember having. And what did I do? Since I was there, I tried on some dresses. The joy…I looked like a happy child in a candy store.

Actually, I tried on some dresses that had a special meaning for me (the ones that reminded me of particular moments)…and I had brought them with me despite the excess weight from chemotherapy and steroids.

I hadn’t tried them on in a while. Last summer, I only had a couple of black dresses that I could wear.

In my wardrobe yesterday, I found and tried on some dresses, and they fit me again. It’s not a matter of excess weight, it’s a matter of seeing oneself as sick or as healed (in my case, in the process of healing).

I felt good, despite the effort. Feeling good has this effect, and I had forgotten about it.