I was re-organizing my wardrobe today and realized that I am the definition of a hoarder. It is physically impossible for me to give away my clothes, no matter how old they are. As a result, there is virtually no space in my almirah for any more. The most I can do is shift around what I wear on a more regular basis and keep the abandoned - but still emotionally valuable - stuff at the back.
I wonder why that is, though. Every time I set out to reduce my clutter, I end up finding excuses to keep it after all. For some things, it's understandable. Like certain t-shirts that I stole from Gautam. Those, I'm never letting go.
But, stuff like..okay, I can't think of anything that I don't have a reason to keep. Like the Athens Olympics t-shirt from 2004 that my Nanaji got me when he went to Greece to watch the games. Or the Pure Panjabi t-shirt I bought in the 9th grade which is absolutely faded and frayed, but I still can't seem to stop wearing. [What, it's a cool t-shirt!]
Sigh. I guess I'll just have to get myself a huge ass walk-in wardrobe when I own my own house.
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