Your Closet Is Lying to You: Why We Keep Clothes We Don’t Even Like

Even though I have donated hundreds of pieces of clothing during my various moves—and plenty more since then—I STILL have clothes in my closet that I don’t wear.

I don’t like how they fit.

The fabric is scratchy. Or the tag is scratchy.

I don’t love the style anymore.

The color looked great when I bought it, but now that I’ve embraced my silver hair, it just looks…wrong.

And yet, there they are.

Taking up precious space in my very small closet.

Aggravating me every time I try one on because I convince myself I’m going to give it “one more try” to see if I like it.

I hate it.

Back in the closet it goes.

Still alive to torture me another day.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

When Did We Decide We Needed So Much?

I remember my grandmother’s house.

It was built in the 1950s, and the bedroom closets were about the size of today’s hall closets.

No walk-in closets.

No fancy organizing systems.

No shoe shelves.

No drawers specifically designed for scarves, handbags or whatever else we have managed to convince ourselves we need.

Just one hanging rod.

And somehow, they made it work.

My mom and her sister even shared one of those tiny closets, along with the small bedroom.

So what happened?

When did we decide we needed so many different outfits?

Why do we feel like we can’t be seen wearing the same thing twice?

Why do we need six different colors of the same pair of boots?

Fifty T-shirts?

Fifteen pairs of jeans?

Twenty-five sweaters?

And somehow, despite having all of those choices, we still reach for the same three outfits over and over again.

I’m not judging.

Because I’ve fallen into the trap, too.

The Shoes I Bought Eight Years Ago

There was one particular shopping trip I still remember.

My oldest son came with me because we were shopping for sneakers for him. It was just the two of us, and I remember it fondly because it was one of those unexpected moments of quality time that you don’t realize you’ll treasure until later.

Somehow, while we were shopping, he convinced me to buy two pairs of shoes I absolutely did not need.

He told me they looked nice.

He pointed out all the occasions I could wear them.

And because I was having such a great time with him, I bought them.

Impulse purchase.

Yes, my fault.

But it happened, and I can't take it back, okay? 😂

That was probably eight years ago.

Fast forward to last month.

I was going through my shoes, trying to figure out what I could finally get rid of.

And there they were.

One pair was a black sparkly flat.

The other pair…I honestly can’t even remember what they looked like.

But I remembered the day I bought them.

I pulled them out, put them on, and within minutes they basically disintegrated on my feet.

The coating on the soles literally peeled off and stuck to my feet.

Into the trash they went.

And honestly, that was a little sad.

Not because I wanted the shoes.

But because they could have been donated years ago to someone who would actually use them.

Instead, they sat in my closet for eight years, taking up space while I waited for some imaginary occasion that never came.

We Were Sold the Idea That More Choices Would Make Us Happier

Somewhere along the way, we were convinced that happiness required options.

We needed a different outfit every time we went somewhere.

We needed clothes for every possible occasion.

We needed backups.

And backups for the backups.

Clothing became cheaper to buy. Fabrics became cheaper. Manufacturing became faster.

And consumerism did what consumerism does best:

It convinced us that we needed more.

And now, when we shop for a home, we often look for bigger closets to hold all the stuff we’ve accumulated.

The walk-in closet has become a selling feature.

And don't get me wrong—I understand the appeal. 😂

But sometimes I wonder if we're buying bigger houses to accommodate things we wouldn't have bought in the first place if we hadn't been convinced we needed them.

I Learned This Lesson While Cleaning Out My Grandmother’s House

I remember helping clean out my grandmother’s closets when she moved into a nursing home.

I ended up with ten large black garbage bags of clothing to donate.

Ten.

There were things she hadn't worn—or probably even seen—in twenty years.

And then I found something that stopped me.

A Christmas gift I had given her.

It was a beautiful berry and magenta-colored scarf with matching fingerless gloves.

Still in the box.

Never worn.

Why?

Because they were too nice.

She didn’t want to mess them up.

I brought them home with me.

I wore those gloves until they literally fell apart.

And eventually, I gave the scarf to my beautiful friend Lacy, because she looks amazing in scarves.

And that, right there, is the part that sticks with me.

We save things for later.

We save things for special occasions.

We save the “good” things because we don't want to ruin them.

And sometimes, later never comes.

What If We Just Kept the Things We Love?

Here's the thing I've realized about my own closet:

I don't need more options.

I need fewer things that I actually love.

If I really think about it, I have a handful of go-to outfits that I choose over and over again.

Not because they are the latest “OOTD” trend.

Not because I'm trying to impress anyone.

Not because I need someone to admire my new ensemble.

I wear them because they're comfortable.

They feel good against my skin.

They fit well.

They make me feel good.

Of course I want my clothes to be flattering. I'm not giving up completely! 😂

But I am well past trying to please other people by constantly providing them with something new to look at.

As long as I feel good in what I'm wearing, I know I will look good.

Because confidence is the vibe.

My Current Favorite: Linen

Summer in Knoxville can be exceptionally hot and humid, so linen has become my staple.

I love how it feels against my skin.

I even have linen bedsheets.

And I don't give one little bit what anybody thinks if I show up somewhere in the same outfit I wore last week.

Or last month.

Or, heaven forbid, last year.

😂

My family is healthy.

We live in a beautiful home in a great neighborhood.

Life is good.

I don't need a closet full of clothes I don't love to make it better.

And if I'm being completely honest with myself, having clothes in my closet that I don't absolutely love actually stresses me out.

Did I mention how small my closets are?

It's Time to Let Some Things Go

So, as summer winds down, I'm going to take another inventory of my closet.

The things I don't absolutely love?

Gone.

The clothes hiding in the shadows, waiting for their “last chance”?

Gone.

The things I keep because I feel guilty that I spent money on them?

Gone.

I'll donate them to a women's shelter and hopefully, something I don't need anymore can become part of someone else's new beginning.

And maybe you can do the same.

Because life is too short to wear clothes you don't love simply because you feel guilty about spending money on them.

Life is too short to save everything for a “special occasion.”

And life is definitely too short to let a tiny piece of fabric take up more mental space than it deserves.

Maybe downsizing starts smaller than you think.

When we talk about downsizing, most people immediately think about the big stuff.

The house.

The furniture.

The garage.

The storage room.

But sometimes, downsizing starts with something as simple as opening your closet and asking yourself:

“If I were shopping today, would I buy this again?”

If the answer is no, maybe it's time to let it go.

Because when the day comes that you really are ready to downsize, wouldn't it be nice if your closet wasn't the thing causing you the most stress?

And maybe—just maybe—you'll discover that you don't need a bigger closet after all.

You just need less stuff you don't love.