Closet Crossroads

I'm pretty sure we're done having kids.

(I would say I'm 100% sure, but if there's one thing I know is that when I make absolute statements like that it's a sure-fire way for me to get pregnant. So to be safe, I knock my level of confidence on this a bit. But yeah, I think three boys feels just about right.)

When you make a decision like this it's like the proverbial butterfly fluttering its wings on the other side of the world, where a small event has ever growing consequences -- some tiny, some life-encompassing.

I will not be talking about the big consequences of this decision here -- instead I want to tell you about what it's done to my wardrobe.

Friends, after five years of carrying, birthing, and nursing babies it's come to this: I have nothing to wear.

I know...there are some of you out there who've never had children, have closets full to bursting with clothes and you still have nothing to wear. I KNOW. I don't think I've ever had anything to wear in my entire life. Is it ever enough? Of course not.

But this...state... that I'm in? It's something else entirely. The last time I went on a real shopping spree was five years ago. I tend to stay away from super trendy clothes, so it's not like I'm bemoaning all the things I didn't get to wear while I was pregnant. No, it's not that at all.

I've been pretty good about donating things I don't wear anymore. So my closet is extremely edited already. What has survived my frequent closet cleanups is perfectly reasonable and some of it is quite nice -- if a bit ill-fitting, as I am not back in pre-pregnancy form yet. No. The problem is that my closet is a bit of time capsule. The clothes in it just don't feel like me anymore.

Whenever I look for something to wear, I feel like I'm looking through someone else's clothes. Very frustrating. But it makes sense -- I'm not the same woman today that I was five years ago.

But the worst part is, I don't know what it is I want to wear today, and tomorrow, and the day after that. I don't know what my personal sense of style is anymore. It's item #5 on the Life List ("define my personal sense of style"), but at this point it seems as impossible to achieve as selling an article to Vanity Fair.