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  • Dasia Zanders

"Sorry, I can't talk right now. My closet has collapsed."

One of my favorite things to do is organize. When it comes time to rearrange items in the house or do deep cleaning, I'm thrilled to start compartmentalizing. I have to have my physical possessions organized or I start to feel anxious, so I've organized my electronics, my purses, my makeup, the items in the trunk of my car, my journals, and many other miscellaneous items. I even organize the apps on my phone according to if they relate to work, school, or entertainment. I even offer to help my friends reorganize and redecorate their spaces. However, there is one thing I do not like organizing and have formed a strong dislike towards, closets. There is something about organizing closet space that gets me to roll my eyes, let out a deep sigh of frustration, and hope I can get the clean up over within less than an hour.

Perhaps this was the reason for what happened two weeks ago.

I have a busy schedule for the remainder of the year. Fall semester is almost over at the time of me writing this, I have a book to finish the third rounds of editing for, and I have my yearly holiday gathering I do in celebration of my mother's birthday and festivities. After creating my schedule in my planner I decided to decorate my bedroom for Christmas since I would have no other time to dedicate to it. So, I took my Saturday night and spent it decorating my bedroom. I popped in "Tangled", fixed myself warm tea, and got to work on making my space even prettier than it already was. It ended up being a beautiful moment to myself, I sang along with the movie and filled my mind with positive thoughts. It was perfect, up until the very last minute. I had finished decorating and took the empty boxes that had once contained my decorations to store away in my closet or at least that was my original plan. I opened my closet doors, put one empty box on the top shelf, heard a creak, and then stared in shock as my entire closet shelves proceeded to break down the middle and send all my clothes tumbling. I think I stared at the wreckage for at least five minutes before I shouted for my mother to come to help me. Now, before anyone argues that it couldn't have been that bad, I'm here to tell you that you are wrong my friend.

1. This happened exactly at midnight which is not the best timing considering everyone wants to go to bed. 2. I am fortunate to be able to have a lot of clothes, but with that being said I have a lot of clothes. More than I'm comfortable admitting. 3. The way it all came down meant it wasn't going to be a quick and easy fix.

It took four hours to clear out my closet and clean up the mess. My clothes ended up in the living room, taking up both couches and recliners, and I ended up with an unplanned closet makeover. I spent all of Sunday shopping to find new shelving for my closet and a shoe rack. Monday, my mother and I spent a long time installing the new shelves, determined to make sure they were sturdy. Tuesday, I did nothing but separate my clothes into what I would keep and what I would give away. Through this entire experience, I was mildly annoyed but strangely I felt grateful that the closet had collapsed. It forced me to finally clean up the one area I had always avoided. The main reason I hated going through my closet was that it felt like too much to tackle at one time and I could never get everything positioned properly. This part might sound insane to some people, but I found that another reason for my avoidance of cleaning out the closet was because of memories I had associated with certain clothing items. There were so many different shirts, sweaters, and jackets that I rediscovered, some with fond memories and others of unfortunate ones. It was strange, it was as if I were looking through brief moments of my life or pieces of my personality through fabrics. I had an eye-opening moment that week, I realized why some people fall in love with fashion so passionately because it is a form of expression and storytelling. I had chosen to shove some stories to the very back of the space where I didn't have to look at them, but at the end that created only created a mess, in this case, both figuratively and literally. I felt proud when the closet was finished. Everything now has a place, I can view all my pieces easier, and I decorated it the way I wanted. What once was a dull white closet packed with uncoordinated clothes is now a clean space with items organized by color and clothing type, surrounded by posters, letters, and even a small dream catcher on the walls.

I never would have guessed a closet would teach me a little piece about myself, but that's the funny part about existing, some of the most random situations can bring lessons or joy.

*My advice: Always take time to clean your closet so it doesn't collapse.

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