On The Two-Year Rule

I hate clutter. Truly, truly hate it- and I am sure it’s because I have been a pack-rat in one of my previous lives (extending well into this one!). My latest incarnation has a total hate for packed closets, old clothing, useless paper. I am the Trash-Bin Queen, the Closet Warrior, the Goodwill Fairy. And I enjoy it.

What can possibly give you more pleasure than filling up a bag of junk, and donating it all to Goodwill? What is more pleasant than looking at an orderly closet, and realize it’s like that BECAUSE OF YOU! What can be as incredibly rewarding as throwing out old clothes to make room for brand new ones?? (Okay, I will admit that the most I have spent in clothing items in the past year has been $6.99 in a pair of slacks- I also happen to be a TJMaxx Digger, a Ross Raider, and a Lohemann’s Aficionados, but I think this is the topic of another post!) In any case, my husband is WAY clingier to “stuff” than I am.

When I first met him, we decided to live in the same room he had for the previous few years, in a large house with his (fantastic) roommates. This made for a very, very small closet for both of us. This is where I started my shedding of clothes, which applied to both mine and his. He did not particularly like this. His closet was packed-full of t-shirts and really, really bad short-sleeved shirts. These weren’t that hard to get rid of, as the clear understanding was that if I ever caught him with a short-sleeved shirt on, I would break up with him. However, the t-shirts proved to be a true challenge. I could not get rid of most of those, and one in particular- the infamous Einstein t-shirt. You know which one it is- it has a Einstein cartoon on it, and I believe it is smoking pot. The best I can describe it as is “juvenile”, but I would still frown upon a fourteen-year old boy wearing it. Do you have the picture?

I truly struggled with it, and it took me about two years to realize there was hope, and it resided in the Charity Note. Charity is one of the things that truly resonate with my husband, so I came up with the “Two-Year Rule”: anything that has not been worn in the past two years can find itself more useful in someone else’s closet, someone with less means, someone who can give justice to the cotton growers who harvested the balls, the children who transformed it into clothing, and retailers who sold it to us… I was SO proud of myself!! Right after stating the rule, I approached the closet, all happy to be able to fill a bag of Goodwill-bound material… and he materialized next to me wearing the Einstein t-shirt- on top of about three others who were on my shit-list. Those damn t-shirts are still in residence in our closet.

Although in principle my idea had mileage, and it DID provide some good old-fashioned closet-cleaning, I know how to take defeat. It is a counter effect of marrying a smart husband, you know?? He CAN and WILL outsmart you when he really cares about his t-shirts.

Now, once every year or so, I will catch a glimpse of him wearing that t-shirt under his shirt, or in bed, or packed for a vacation… and although I win many of my household battles, I totally realize when I need to surrender.