There’s also an emotional component to clothing that is important to take into account. We hold on to garments because we are convinced that one day they may be the answer to a problem, or because they represent moments in time we cherish, or because they cheer us up or make us feel powerful or happy. Clothes feed our imagination, and that can help us get through the day as much as clothes that function.
Vanessa Friedman – Fashion Director & Chief Fashion Critic for the New York Times.
This is a partial response to a question submitted to Ms. Friedman’s column. The question was: How many items of clothing do we need?
I agree that we hang on to certain items of clothing for a variety or reasons. I have much of my mother’s clothing that she wore when I was a little girl. I keep these pieces (and some I wear myself) because they are classic, good quality, and they hold memories. I also have a beautiful cashmere pullover sweater that belonged to my dad. It’s way too big for me, but styled with a wide belt and boots, it’s an unexpected winter look.
Sadly, over the years I have been less inclined to keep my own clothing. I let slip away a nice wool blazer, but I do still have a black wool suit that I bought in Canada. Funny what we keep and what we don’t. I wish I still had the snakeskin pumps I sported when I was a teenager (with fuchsia corduroy pants). They were vintage 1960s and got I rid of them in a fit of “I’ll never wear these again!”.
What do you still have in your closet from years ago? What did you get rid of that you now regret?
OverDressed for Life 
I got rid of my rock’n’roller husband’s silver lame platforms from the Ziggy Stardust period. They were size 12-1/2 and were closet hogging huge with that elevated sole. He was horrified for years that I dumped them (I know I told him, but mistakenly thought he agreed). Guess he had the time of his life costumed in the purple velvet jumpsuit festooned with silver rhinestones they accompanied. He mentioned them every couple months for the rest of his life, had to play in a famous Star’s revival tour all over the states & Japan with the big velvet bell bottoms taped up with Duct tape (too long, no platforms). RIP, darling. I’m sorry and I always felt bad for that mistake.
My own? I still have the most supple, elegant 1930’s bias cut, floor length, cut-velvet ball gown in midnight blue with gathered-at-shoulder sleeves. It felt like wearing a baby blanket, cozy, form fitting… a scene from a black and white glamorous film noir. I wore it to a couple once-in-a-lifetime galas. A roommate ‘borrowed’ it, I begged her not to harm my ‘precious’… she burned a couple cigarette holes down the front. I still have it in the back of my closet, simply could not give up my date with destiny, but knowing it had little value in that condition. Missed opportunities.
Thank you for sharing, Nancy. I can picture Byron in a Ziggy-style jumpsuit and platforms. What fun! Those very specific styles are easy to toss when clearing out a closet. The value of your velvet dress is in your fond memories. No holes or other damage can take that away. Happy New Year!