If this whole new year, new you thing has got you turning over a new leaf in your book about your journey to adulthood then one of the things that’s probably on your list is cleaning out that overflowing mess that’s your wardrobe. Whether you’re a compulsive hoarder or just someone that buys too many clothes (guilty on both accounts), something definitely needs to be done lest the whole wardrobe explode and suffocate you in a mess of chiffons and wools, silks and cottons.
So, hop to it. Here’s a few things you’ll probably find along the way
1. A really nice top... that you’ve somehow ruined
Hooray, I *forgot *about this guy! This used to be hands down my favourite thing to wear. Why the hell did I ever stop wearing it? Ah – that’s right. I managed to burn a hole in it with an iron (why I don’t iron much, reason no. 245) or I managed to discolour the pits with that cheapo deodorant I used to use or I managed to spill greasy soup down it that time I was laughing so hard at my friend trying to use chopsticks that I spat it all down myself. Nice work me.
2. An item of clothing that makes you weep for teenage you
Mine was a T-shirt that said ‘Von-Bitch’ in homage to Paris Hilton’s favoured trucker cap brand ‘Von Dutch’. Becuase wearing something from Von Dutch wasn’t bad enough, I had to go one step further and parody a brand that was already a parody of itself.
I must have worn that T-shirt in front of respectable adults, older girls at school I wanted to impress, teachers, boys I fancied. All the while thinking that I looked liked a much-envied heiress hellbent on partying my way through the Miami social scene. Actually, I looked liked a pillock. Why did no-one tell me?
3. Novelty pants
Either from your mate as a joke for Christmas (scratch and sniff banana-scented thong, thanks) or originally purchased in all seriousness because your view of what ‘sexy’ was as a young whipper snapper was sorely missguided thanks to the Pussycat Dolls and/or Christina Aguilera’s *Dirrty *(or, in really rare cases, Jodie Marsh and the two belts).
These pants are definitely synthetic, would definitely go up in flames if exposed the merest of sparks and left you with a severe bout of crotch rot the one time you actually did try to wear them.
4. A moth fest
Fuck moths. Literally, what is the point of those crafty little fuckers. As far as we can tell their only purpose is to chew a hole through your favourite jumper then wait in the wings in their little moth gang and watch your face drop in dismay as you realise that you’re never going to be able to wear said jumper again. They’re trolls. IRL trolls in insect form, there just to ruin your day. Down with moths. The dicks.
5. That thing you’re going to fit into one day
At the moment it’s just a teensy bit too tight across the breasticles, exposing a hefty part of your cleavage or, you can just about get the waistband done up but can’t for the life of you sit down. Friday night kebabs are a cruel mistress. A necessary one, but still, cruel on the old waistline.
Never mind though, one day, the time will be right for you and this item of clothing and you’ll slip it on, gliding magnificently past your pert behind and you’ll realise that keeping it for all these years was definitely not a waste of time. Probably.
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.