THE NEVER-ENDING WAR WITH THE CLOSET
By Anne Davis
There comes a point in every woman’s life when we throw in the towel (literally) and curl up into the fetal position on the floor in front of our closet, naked and bawling (not to be confused with ballin’). A wardrobe filled with clothes and nothing to wear, a chronic disease affecting most overdramatic women across the nation. I finally understand why they call it a wardrobe.
Every day it’s the same struggle: What the heck do I wear? I reach for my leggings and the oversized t-shirt I stole from my ex, hoping the grunge trend will miraculously return within the next two hours.
I wait two hours. Nope.
And it’s back to the drawing board.
I can’t wear the black mini dress I wore last weekend, or the skirt I wore to that birthday party two nights ago. And I think I’ve worn the same Elizabeth and James tank top approximately 780 times.
But wait. Revelation! (Cue light bulb)
If I didn’t get any pictures wearing it, no one can prove I’m an outfit repeater. Right?
In the wise words of Elle Woods, one must have “evidentiary support” if they want to win a case, or in this scenario, to call me out on wearing the same red A-line skirt I wore last week. Bruiser can bark all he wants, but if you rocked the pink suit and matching shoes and you (unsurprisingly) weren’t swarmed by paparazzi, then why not rock it again?
It’s all about plausible deniability. As a horrible liar myself, any sort of confrontation which requires a response will result in me giggling, attempting to lie, failing, and turning a tomato-ish red. So I recommend the Dodgeball-inspired tactic: dodge, dip, dive, duck, and dodge. If someone begins to point out your striped maxi skirt that you’re wearing for the second time that week, quickly place a finger over their lips, look straight into their soul, shake your head, and run away as fast as you possibly can.
It’s that easy.
To clarify, I am not advocating that everyone should be walking around in the same Elle Woods-inspired obnoxious dress suit with matching pumps every day, but next time you look at your closet and begin to tear up, just go through old Facebook pictures. If your desired outfit doesn’t appear amidst embarrassing selfies and awkwardly posed group photos, then by all means zip on that cheetah print skirt and black blouse you’ve worn too many times for your own good.
So when you go to get dressed tomorrow morning and it seems like the world is coming to an end, keep your head high, fight back those tears, and if all else fails, rip up that t-shirt you borrowed from your ex without any intention of ever returning. I found it to be quite therapeutic.