Closets, drawers hide well-kept secrets Mary Henkel Judson
The scariest part is the thought of someone coming in to clean out my vanity, closet and dresser drawers.
The first excuse that comes to mind is that I'm a working-woman. I don't have time to alphabetize my "unders."
But there's more to it than that.
Why do I still have every extra button that came with each piece of clothing I purchased over the past 10 years?
I cannot part with the M&M box (the contents of which have long since been consumed) we were given when we went to the White House when George Bush the First was President of the United States and I was president of the Texas Press Association. For lack of a better place to put it, it is safely tucked away in the back corner of one of my vanity drawers. It shares the space with all those extra buttons, miscellaneous lip liners, spare tubes of mascara and various other grooming tools.
Abandoned bottles of makeup, brushes in an array of shapes and sizes, long-unused curling irons, and travel-size containers of lotion and shampoo take up space in other drawers, waiting to be tossed out or donated to a charity garage sale. None will ever be used again, but throwing them away looms as a huge obstacle.
In another drawer there are little boxes. I'm sure they will come in handy someday when I need a box just that size. Every few years I become frustrated with myself and throw them all away - with the nagging fear that I've thrown the baby out with the bath water.
Know how many gowns I have? Know how long I've had them? Know how many of them I don't wear? Know why I keep 'em?
And shoes. It's obvious that I am a firm believer in the notion that you can't have too many black shoes - most of which I do not wear.
Purses. I've got tons of 'em, but I don't ever seem to have the right one for the right occasion and/or outfit.
It's the same with belts. I won't throw any of them away - not after one of my belts from the '80s came back into vogue just a few years ago. No, I'm not throwing away any belts.
I just hope I get around to cleaning out those drawers and my closet before the big bus takes me out. Reading about this mess is one thing. Seeing it is another, and I've got my reputation to think about - even if it is posthumously.