I live in a 1930's cottage with closets the size of glove boxes. Apparently, wardrobe choices were few. The previous owner built a closet in the second bedroom that has become the "all storage" space in the house. And a space given to clutter unless it is culled regularly. 

 

I find myself constantly culling -- the tops I bought for $7 at Goodwill are going back to them for free.

 

The dress I bought on sale two sizes too small two decades ago is not the one I'd choose for the party if my body suddenly shrunk two sizes overnight.

 

The saved wrapping paper, ribbons, and embellishments have waited too long for their day of celebration.

 

It's time. To. Let. Them. Go.

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