So, as long as we’re NEWLYWEDS we decided to do it up right with dinner out and flowers and the whole bit. The coup d’ etat was that we each planned an activity for the other person that we thought they would like (aren’t we adorable? We’re newlyweds!).

Now, I don’t know what my activity is because it wasn’t happening last weekend (weird because Zara is open every day…) but Chris’ Lovefest Event was to go to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, this huge 3-day free music fest in the park. Honestly, I didn’t know many bands that played, except Lyle Lovett (whom I adore and I was going to say is third on my list of singers I’d most like to marry but I won’t because that is a totally inappropriate comment for a newlywed to make) but it was all in the Name of Love and they were selling Kettle Corn so, no matter.

And then what can only be described as the Most Fantastic Thing I Have Ever Seen in a Park happened. We turned a corner and there was this guy, sitting at a typewriter with a sign that said, “Pick a topic. Offer a price. I’ll write you a poem.”

Of course, we did it!

Three minutes, one phone number and an eye-rolling amount of flirting from a scantily clad pair of ladies later (seriously, this guy is like the Sensitive Poet’s answer to George Clooney. It didn’t matter their age, the ladies love Lynn Gentry…), we had our poem.

I love being a newlywed.

(I’ll give your eyes a moment to recover.)

After that debacle I purged my closet and had what I thought was a lean, fashion-friendly closet.  So, imagine my surprise when my sisters come over to help pack up my closet and we found these treasures….

1.  Jacket bought (at considerable expense) to jump-start my career as a “working woman.”  I remember standing in the boutique (in Canada, no less!) agonizing over whether to buy this or a black shirt dress. Fortunately, I chose timeless. I always do.  (Sidenote: Molly is brushing her bangs with a comb found in the pocket.  Used to keep it on hand in case, I don’t know, I needed to tease my perm?)

2.  This was my first “vintage” piece (I believe it was circa 1993, bought it in 2001).  When paired with a moderately flared, slightly distressed jean skirt, it says, “I am short-waisted,” like few things can.

3.  This was one of my first purchases from Anthropologie and, I have to admit, the only thing I’ve ever bought from there that I’ve never worn.  See, parts of my brain still work.

Because I was moving everything myself (LB was already in San Fran) I told LB that we needed to weed out his closet and get rid of everything he hasn’t worn in the past 10 years. (Soooo mean!) Typically he lets me in there once a year and after a whole lot of moaning and groaning concedes one t-shirt that has so many holes in it it looks like an old-school football jersey. (Remember those?  Even I could see mesh was a look that wasn’t going to stick around.) After about an hour, it was not going well.  We’d thrown away one tattered T-shirt and had a pile waist-deep of things he wanted to “think about,” when I stumbled upon my saving grace – the Halloween box.  Turns out “hobo clown” is easier to swallow than “out-of-date.”

Molly and Jill wasted no time in putting together a “Greatest Hits of LB’s Closet.”  Okay, so Jill doesn’t look good in everything.

So that was so much fun I’m thinking we’re going to have to do more of it.  Because I have A LOT of ridiculous pieces of clothing.  Many that I still wear in a way that is undoubtedly funky and creative, just like that pea green jacket.

Fast-forward a couple of years and after moving into The Den of Love with my betrothed, I only have one closet.  It’s a jam-packed affair that I attempt to clean on a regular basis but still tends toward overflowing.  So, I decided to try out my coffee shop friend’s experiment and wear some of the little-seen treasures that have been shoved in the back.

Day One:
I head down to get my haircut at the very trendy, very fashionable Parlour.  I leave the house wearing a Betsey Johnson circus-tent mini-skirt and sleeveless tank top, feeling funky and hip.  I return home feeling outdated and ridiculous.  Maybe it’s time to let them go.

Day Two:
I put on a long-forgotten t-shirt that features ballet slippers and gathered ribbon sleeves with a fitted white skirt.  The lady ahead of me in line at the mall keeps looking over her shoulder to check out my outfit.  “Why yes, I can be youthful and cheeky while still turning heads,” I think.

Later, after my sister tells me I look like a confused high schooler with a too-short shirt and sleeves from the 90s, I wonder if maybe the woman was trying to telepathically tell me to go home and change.

Day Three:
I’m starting to wonder if this experiment is best left to baristas with closets full of Buffalo Exchange cast-offs.  I decide to give it one more try.  I pair a slightly sheen blouse from a long-ago trip to Paris with an Urban Outfitters skirt from college.  And I feel dumb.   I don’t have to leave the house to realize I look like I need a good closet cleaning.

I call my youngest sister.

Day Four
Jill, who is young and hip and the only person I’ve ever met in real life who looks good in leggings, comes over and tears apart my closet.  Shirt with bedazzled butterfly (but I bought it in Paris!) – gone.  Jeans from college that I swear I will one day fit into – gone.  Too tight t-shirt with sparkly parrot – gone!
Jill is harsh.  Jill is tough. Jill hurt my feelings a teeny bit.  But Jill also gives me a brand spankin’ new closet where I can see what I have and don’t have to horrify the modern world with clothes that were funky last millennium.

What did I learn from my little experiment?  Maybe it’s not in my best interest to have multiple closets.  Maybe I shouldn’t wear clothes that I bought a decade ago.  Maybe it’s okay to ask for help.  Because I’m happy to say, I will now actually be wearing everything I have in my closet, more than once, and I ask you my little peanut nuggets, how fab is that?