Why I Refuse to Purge The Clothes That Currently Don’t Fit Me

I know decluttering "sparks joy", but leave me and my wardrobe alone

Aug 08, 2024

How many articles have you read that encourage you to have a closet clearout/wardrobe refresh every year?

(Weirdly I received yet another one in a newsletter I subscribe to while I was writing this post. Someone obviously heard my furious keyboard tapping coming from the shadow of my chairdrobe.)

Decluttering has been a big thing ever since Marie Kondo introduced us to the KonMari Method of decluttering and uttered those (now famous) words, “Does it spark joy?” – and to be honest, I’m a fan. I always feel better when I have a good clear out at home, and the results are worth every minute of decluttering, decisions and *ahem* dust.

(I’m even working towards Swedish death cleaning my house. My progress is slow but steady; I’m aiming to finish by the age of 80. I figured 28 years should be enough time to get it done.)

So to address this uncluttered phenomenon: yes, I regularly go through my wardrobe and clear out clothes that I know I won’t wear anymore, for whatever reason. They get donated or put into the car boot sale/online selling pile (which reminds me, I have to get round to doing both of those things.)

However, I’m not entirely comfortable with the advice that tells us that the way to declutter your wardrobe is to judge every item on whether it’s been worn in the last year. Or even more extreme, the last six months.

What the WHAT now?! If I haven’t worn something in the last six months I should just get rid of it?? Seriously?

Any Brit will know that items in their summer wardrobe don’t get much of an outing and, if you take this year as an example, warmer temperatures have only really started appearing in the last couple of weeks or so. (Don’t get me started on the fact that the shops are stocking Autumn-Winter lines already, WTF.) Therefore I have a ton of summer clothes (well, dresses) that I still love and of course haven’t worn since last year or maybe even the year before, because we just don’t get enough hot summer days to wear a different summer dress every day.

But more than that, I can’t fit into the majority of my wardrobe right now. I have SO many clothes that I absolutely ADORE – I mean I love them like you’d love a beautiful oil painting or a stunning sculpture you have as part of your home décor – but they don’t fit me. Still, here’s the rub (much like my thighs experience on a daily basis, little joke for you there): I want to wear them. But just because they don’t fit me now doesn’t mean they won’t fit me ever.

And the fact that I love these clothes so much is why purging the clothes that no longer fit will NOT make me feel better. In fact, it would make me far MORE miserable and sad to get rid of them than it does to have them in the wardrobe and not be able to wear them. And I don’t think it’s fair to be indirectly berated by these draconian decluttering articles that tell me my life would be SO much better if only I had a full-blown purge and tossed them out.

I’m telling you, I would PINE for them. Like a child who’s been told their cherished, threadbare muslin needs to be thrown out. Or a dog whose favourite toy is so old and chewed up that it’s barely recognisable as a rabbit (“A rabbit? I thought it was a platypus…”) – you can’t get rid of it, can you? It would break its heart. Older people often love their trinkets that are so old-fashioned that the temptation to say “Mum, are you sure you want to keep that horse ornament with the brass horseshoes on it?” is not a wise one to succumb to. Don’t go there. Leave the ornaments be.

In the same way, leave me and my wardrobe alone, you decluttering freaks.

I’m not disillusioned, oh no

Now, before anyone says “Oh but you should just accept your size and move on!” – can I just say that yes, I’m firmly in the body size acceptance camp. I have fully embraced the fact that at the age of 52, I’ll likely never be a size 8 again and nor do I want to be. My weight gain in recent years is not purely down to “just middle age”, perimenopause or anything age or metabolism-related. I’ve had a huge number of health problems lately, all of which have resulted in me being almost totally unable to walk around the house, let alone anything resembling (even gentle) exercise.

Sciatica pain is one of the most debilitating conditions to have when you’re a mostly healthy person, and as someone who enjoys their food it means I ended up being stressed, tired and lethargic – and gaining weight at a scary rate. It’s not a case of “Ugh I’ve put on 10lb/5kg” (oh, the poor sweet child who cries that)… I am 48lb/22kg/3.5 stone heavier than I was before all the pain started three years ago. (And I could be heavier than that, I haven’t weighed myself in a while.) So right now, even my previously bigger clothes are now way too small for me.

But that’s perfectly okay. I’m not losing sleep over the clothes issue. But what I AM concerned about is my health. The weight gain does have to be addressed if I don’t want an increased risk of heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, osteoarthritis (which my mother suffers from and my joints are pretty painful already) or any other weight-related issues that can have a severely detrimental effect on my health. My goal is, therefore, to improve my health and get back to a reasonable (i.e. healthy) weight, and the first stop has been physiotherapy. I’ve been having regular physio for several months and can now finally feel like I can move again without pain.

That goal should mean that I get fitter and trimmer and be able to do the things I love doing once more: running, hiking, weight training, dancing round the kitchen without collapsing before You Should Be Dancing by the Bee Gees has even finished. I was on a trampoline with my six-year-old great niece the other weekend and I could barely do more than a couple of bounces before my knee went Er, NOPE?! That needs to change; I’m intending to get back on that trampoline and bounce my middle-aged toosh into next week before the summer is over.

I am not a minimalist and never will be

I’ve already purged the teeny-tiny size 8 clothes that I know I’ll never, ever get back into (or at least earmarked them for selling). The clothes I want to wear are the ones I was wearing just a couple of years ago, the ones I still love and adore and want to wear again. I also want to be able to wear my collection of vintage shirts and dresses.

So if I were to take the advice of some of these articles that tell you to purge your wardrobe of anything you haven’t worn in six months or a year, then to be honest I’d have nothing left that brings me joy. I am not a minimalist. I like to be organised and have everything incredibly tidy, spick and span – but a minimalist I am not.

It would break my heart to say goodbye to my flared trouser pink corduroy jumpsuit or my plunge neck terracotta jumpsuit. I’m not ready to let go of my pink-striped vintage DVF jumpsuit (over my dead body). In other words, I just want to wear all my jumpsuits again 😉 – if my house were burning down I’d 100% be going back in to save them. Them AND the dresses.

(Well maybe not really, but you get my point. Though I might go back for the vintage striped one, I mean look just how FABULOUS it is…)

I do know that decluttering is key

I’m not denying that decluttering has a therapeutic effect – it does. I know only too well that having a messy, cluttered home results in my own irritation and lack of productivity. I get angry with such small, trivial things when the house is a mess. My wardrobe is super-organised and tidy; even my socks and pants are rolled up beautifully in my drawers à la Marie Kondo… she’d be so impressed. (I’ve thought about DM-ing her a photo of my underwear drawer like a proud panties parent, but that might get me blocked.)

My wardrobe is just… fuller than it should be. It still has many, many items that I can’t wear, but want to. (I say “it” like it’s singular – I have three double wardrobes plus a rail for protected occasion wear and winter coats in the loft. I am not embarrassed.) I love looking at these items and remembering the fabulous outfits they created. There are beautiful vintage pieces that I could NEVER part with. Why would I want to? They won’t date, they’re dated already as I like to say. And I have items that are 10, 12, heck, even 15 years old that I’m going to hang on to because good lord, I made some great purchasing decisions back in the day. Go 30 and 40-something me.

But I DO keep these too-small-but-dearly-loved items separate and slightly to one side, knowing that they’re there and waiting for my fitness levels to return. Because I can do both: the decluttering of everyday stuff that’s worn out/not doing me any favours/not getting me excited PLUS the keeping of certain, beautiful pieces that I fully intend to fit into at some point.

In my eyes, if I give up on those pieces then I’ve given up on looking after my body. And if I do get fit and my body shape doesn’t change, then so be it… but I’ll be healthy. I’ll be strong. Strong enough to build a giant glass-fronted cabinet (like the V&A costume collection, oh yeah) for those treasured pieces. They can be displayed and gazed at from time to time without ever being worn ever again.

Just watch me.

Do you think we should purge our wardrobes every 6-12 months and get rid of anything we haven’t worn in that time, without exception? Or are you like me and far too fond of certain pieces to just let them go even if they haven’t been worn…?

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