Ciao Lieblingsklamotte: We both just do not feel well anymore.
With a soft but well-known beeping everything started. A look at the phone. My best friend was back on trend: "Come on, do a closet detox!" Oh God. At the word detox, all the hair on my neck turned up and my mind went in defensive position like the neighbor's cat, when she sees Grandma's Fifi. I did not know yet that the trend of detoxification and detoxification, like a summer flu, had been transferred to wardrobes. But well, a bit of minimalism in the closet would certainly do me and especially my relationship well again. My sweaters, dresses, skirts and leggings had creeping in, year after year, inch by inch, annexing more territory and leaving my actual closet half long ago.
And then I sat there, on the bedroom floor. Armed with a glass of wine, I had spread all of my cupboard contents in an ever-expanding radius around me. And my closet detox that the rest of humanity is simple and classic? surprisingly, went very well. The bigger the? Away with it? became, the better I felt. Until it happened and the mini-skirt in size 36 fell into my hands, which I had worn on my first date. Oh no! Not the! He had wandered from one dark corner of the cupboard to the next, had sneaked through relocations and changes of city.
How natural did I want him in the pile? STAYING? throw? but then I paused. I had long since given up the hope to wear this mini skirt again and honestly did not want it anymore. Why keep it then? Why was it so hard for me to get rid of this old thing? The memory of the date could not be it? Both the guy and the picnic that came to an abrupt end with my peanut allergy were a complete failure. What was it then? This, admittedly very small, piece of fabric reminded me of another version of myself. To my night-dancing, younger self.
For a moment, the thought of me depositing on the mini skirt in an even darker corner of my closet flashed like a ration of emergency chocolates on the spring diet. Only for these certain moments? But so far my tendency to self-deception was not mature yet. Yes, there was a younger, more active self.
But this ego was also insecure, never knew what it wanted, disappeared into the people and partners it surrounded, and opposed every decision with a medium-sized life crisis. No, I was not that and I did not want to go back there. No twitching, no hesitation, the mini-skirt is now discarded. The bit of emergency chocolate in my dessert but stays. You know, for those special moments?
