I am an organizer. A picture leveler. A counter polisher. A floor swifferer. A cupboard neatener.
My girls will indignantly tell you about sorting sessions we would have with their things when they were little. Oh they did not like that day! We would dump everything out, sort through it, throw the crap out, find missing pieces, make piles, put away.
At the end of the session I loved going in their room and looking at the clean, sparkling shelves and rows of sorted toys. They will deny it now, but they liked when it was over (yes! for THAT reason too - ha!) because they would always rediscover a love for an item they had forgotten about.
So it goes with my closet straightening. Constantly with the closet. Constant.
Stuff goes in so stuff HAS to come out yes? I always have a bag I am filling to take to the nearest donation center. Full of things I no longer like to wear, things I discovered I just don't want to wear, things that don't suit me (even though they suited me at the time of purchase color me sheepish), things that I'm just not fond of.
At times I have donation remorse.
When I got divorced a few years ago I was going from a house with a lovely, large walk-in closet to a much much smaller situation. So I edited fiercely. I mourn some of that stuff to this day!
So, this morning, I am in my closet pulling things out and throwing them on the bed. Not as many things as I could have thrown on the bed, but enough. It's all good.
Just imagine if I only had one size in there!