Of Garments and Recollections

“Clearing our closets of past incarnations provides the space and freedom for us to choose clothing in the future that authentically reflects the women we are becoming.”

-Sarah Ban Breathnach-

Three weeks until I fly off to the land of tartan-clad men, and until then, I solemnly pledge to be a full-time bum; owl-eyed at 3a.m., breakfast at noon, sinfully munching homemade chocolate chip cookies on the couch…the works. 

But it ain’t always flourescent lights, TV surfing and barefoot trips to the kitchen. Yesterday, in a brazen attempt to rediscover an uncluttered life, I spring cleaned my closet. I started out with a self-invented rule: if it wasn’t designer and I haven’t worn it for 6 months, donate them – a simple principle to digest. So I dedicated a huge paper bag for stockpiling the clothes bound for charity. 

It wasn’t long into my escapade (well, 3 and a half piles of clothes later) when I realized that the paper bag was empty. Nil. Something had to be done; I rolled up my sleeves and reexamined each piece. Not a single one of them were designer. So why was I hanging on to these garments? 

I lifted a silk cream and brown chiffon piece, with petite floral prints – a blouse in which I practically lived in all through my preclinical years in IMU. When paired with my favourite brown tudung, I glowed with confidence from within because it made me feel gorgeous. I loved it then, and I still love it now.  

Next came a bright orange, frilly, Hawaian wraparound skirt. It brought back recollections of my fabulous A-levels biology class trip to Pulau Pangkor – kicking sand, hiking through the jungle collecting specimens and stargazing with friends at the cloudless night sky. Ahh, my carefree days of being a clueless brainy youth prancing around with a bunch of test tubes… 

My hand reached out for a well-worn, cotton, dark blue shirt, with a white angel printed on the front – my high school class t-shirt. How can I forget fond memories of lunches in that particular corner in my school hall, songs about how we met “____ under the sea”, gossips and girly gigles, and crushes on danial?

That evening morphed into a sentimental trip down memory lane. The whole process was symbolic; honouring my past, letting go of past regrets (I still can’t believe I wore those uegh-ly pants), and looking forward to a bountiful future. Pretty relevant to the phase of life I’m going through right now.  

So as I close the doors to my spruced-up closet, an overwhelming sense of hope engulfs me; akin to a spirited traveler about to begin a journey. Feelings never lie – this was no doubt the beginning of something new. 

Mademoiselle Aliaa.

Published in: on August 11, 2006 at 3:44 am  Leave a Comment  

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