When I was on holiday (ah sweet holiday where did you go?) I started a mammoth task in the front room. Over the past year it’s steadily become a giant wardrobe for my ever-burgeoning selection of clothing in multiple sizes due to weight changes.
From being a giant wardrobe it then started to resemble a teenager’s bedroom.
I had clothing spread across the sofa. I had clothing in piles on the floor. I even had a few items of clothing in my spare wardrobe, but it was outnumbered there by food and electronic equipment, because what else is a wardrobe for?
I’ve tried to keep pretending that it’s all fine, it’s not out of control, but this lie has become harder and harder to tell myself.
Finally, I gave in and confronted the fact that I needed to organise the front room. And since most of the stuff was mine, this was going to be a solo journey.
I created more mess, briefly, as I sorted out all of my belongings into groups. Tops, bottoms, dresses/jumpsuits, undergarments, overgarments.
Once everything was in piles I took a little break, because that was a major effort, and then started on the next part of the experiment, which was seeing how I could store everything in its separate piles inside of the wardrobe.
I got most of the way through this new journey of discovery, when I discovered something rather unhappily against my plans.
The wardrobe I’m referring to is a mobile wardrobe. Or, to give it another name, a cheap piece of crap.
It’s basically an assembly of thin metal pipes that slot into (or hammer into if you want to be closer to the truth) little plastic joiny bits that hold it all together in a framework that resembles shelves and hanger space.
At one point there was also a cloth cover which zipped up along the front so I didn’t need to see the mess that was forming inside.
Perhaps I should have put the word cloth in “” because cloth doesn’t usually disintegrate in sunlight so that you can vacuum it up as powder. Powder with a couple of long zips in it.
The naked bones of the wardrobe looked cooler in a bohemian dream type of way, so I never bothered to try to find something else to take its place.
However, it’s possible that the “cloth” served another purpose in that it lent stability to the overall structure. Without it the entire wardrobe started to lean in different directions. After a time the plastic jointy bits started to crack where the pressure was now applied unevenly.
So, getting back to the major cleanup, I started to pile my piles into the shelf space that remained around the shelf space already reserved for electronic bits that may come in handy one day. I was down to my last two piles when there was a loud crack and the wardrobe started to lean to one side.
Well, it had been leaning to that same side for a while now, but it had some serious intent behind the lean now. It was leaning in a pay attention to me type of way.
I paid it attention by stopping what I was doing and announcing that I couldn’t complete the clean-up until I had purchased a new wardrobe.
There was no real incentive for me to buy a new wardrobe. I’m trying to save money at the moment, and the room looked a little bit cleaner and easier to navigate as it was. There was no hurry.
Monday night there was a large cracking sound and a thump. My darling jumped off the couch to investigate. I followed more slowly as I had a good idea of what we were going to find.
The purchase of a new wardrobe moved up my to-do list.
So after scanning the pages of Trade Me for hours, I now have a new wardrobe. It’s made of a lot of cubes that I assembled this morning, then disassembled when I was halfway through, then assembled once more in a structure that made a bit more sense.
I’ve tried to pour the entire room into this little collection of cubes, and I’m now most of the way there.
I’m ignoring for the time being the fact that the wires and plastic joiny bits remind me very strongly of the start of another piece of furniture that I once owned.
I’m sure it will all be fine.