I had to start packing eventually, and today was the day. It's hard to plan what I will need to move to somewhere that is an average of 19 degrees in January with 14 days rain per year. If I'm honest, I'm the kind of girl who looks better in layers. My wardrobe is largely wool-mix. Which will be fine some of the time in LA, I don't think I'll be in shorts constantly, but the sheer volume of £7.99 V neck jumpers from H&M was a bit worrying.
I also have spent the last three years as a penniless student, and was only marginally better off before that, so my clothes are ancient (I actually found a t-shirt I bought in 2000. That's 12 YEARS ago. And seriously, how was the millennium 12 years ago?) Finally an interesting moth problem in my previous flat, the likes of which has not been seen since 1953, has rendered many things a bit hole-y too. It was time to get ruthless.
After a frenzied hour, I had this-
 |
| wellies that don't fit, uncomfy flip flops, burst bags. a veritable treasure trove of crap
The strange thing about clothes, for me at least, is that I look at them and am instantly transported somewhere else. This pile contains a hen party, a wedding, my first business trip, my first music festival and many, many, many more memories. Ultimately though, it's just fabric, and if I get nostalgic about everything I will be a wreck by the time we leave.
|
Sorting stage 2 is in full swing- the charity shop pile for the stuff I am never going to fit into again, the bin for the stuff that frankly I should have got rid of a LONG time ago.The plus side of all of the packing is that my wardrobe currently looks as it never will again-
 |
| I should throw the homemade dinosaur hoodie away, but my heart's not in it. I'm hoping the sunshine will make my ridiculously stripy wardrobe more acceptable, however this may be wild optimism. Onwards and upwards. The beauty products are next on the hit-list... |
