This morning I opened my off-season closet, which also houses our vacuum cleaner and things destined for the Social Services League thrift shop, and spied seven summer shirts stored there last fall. (The white one isn't in the photo.)
I had remarked to Dennis earlier that my summer wardrobe seems spare. I've been wearing mostly t-shirts, but had wanted a loose button-up shirt. I had totally forgotten these shirts, but immediately embraced them as dear old friends and newer acquaintances.
Now, I ask you, do I have too much stuff? Maybe so, but not as much stuff as many other people.
Last Sunday a recently-married young couple showed us around the country home they are building. The walk-in closet in their master bedroom is as large as my entire bedroom. As all four of us were standing in the closet he husband said, "She will have this filled up in no time."
How, I thought, could one person wear all the clothes that would fit in this closet? Would she wear something different every day of the year, maybe changing for dinner? Or does she keep every garment she has ever owned, creating a clothing museum of her life?
When one goes into an old farmhouse one often finds no bedroom closets, but a few hooks on the wall for clothing. The 1920s bungalow I grew up in had two bedrooms, each with a tiny closet two-and-a-half feet wide.
Now we have a surfeit of clothing. Our closets are stuffed with it. Thrift shops are jammed with it. Department stores are burgeoning with it. We send huge bales of it to poorer countries, where a Ugandan boy ends up wearing a K-State t-shirt.
Instead of investing in clothing we could be educating children, building and repairing bridges and providing a safe living environment for the mentally ill who are homeless. We could be doing these things and more if we had tiny closets or only a few hooks on our bedroom walls for clothing.
I had remarked to Dennis earlier that my summer wardrobe seems spare. I've been wearing mostly t-shirts, but had wanted a loose button-up shirt. I had totally forgotten these shirts, but immediately embraced them as dear old friends and newer acquaintances.
Now, I ask you, do I have too much stuff? Maybe so, but not as much stuff as many other people.
Last Sunday a recently-married young couple showed us around the country home they are building. The walk-in closet in their master bedroom is as large as my entire bedroom. As all four of us were standing in the closet he husband said, "She will have this filled up in no time."
How, I thought, could one person wear all the clothes that would fit in this closet? Would she wear something different every day of the year, maybe changing for dinner? Or does she keep every garment she has ever owned, creating a clothing museum of her life?
When one goes into an old farmhouse one often finds no bedroom closets, but a few hooks on the wall for clothing. The 1920s bungalow I grew up in had two bedrooms, each with a tiny closet two-and-a-half feet wide.
Now we have a surfeit of clothing. Our closets are stuffed with it. Thrift shops are jammed with it. Department stores are burgeoning with it. We send huge bales of it to poorer countries, where a Ugandan boy ends up wearing a K-State t-shirt.
Instead of investing in clothing we could be educating children, building and repairing bridges and providing a safe living environment for the mentally ill who are homeless. We could be doing these things and more if we had tiny closets or only a few hooks on our bedroom walls for clothing.
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