This was the view from the car on the way home from the gym this morning:

And that was the view on Sunday, too. And Saturday. And Friday. There was a brief period of No Rain on Monday, but that was just because I switched my wardrobes over on Sunday night, finally succumbing to the growing pressure to pack away my summer clothes and get out the winter woolies once again. Naturally, then, the sun came out on Monday just to taunt me, and make me think I’d been premature in my winter wear decision, but nah, I’m thinking of building an Ark here now, it’s THAT BAD.

The whole “wardrobe changeover” thing was pretty bad too, to be honest. I mean, I’d say it wasn’t much fun, but that would make it sound about a million times better than it actually was.  Which was BAD. Where did I get all of those clothes ? What am I supposed to do with them? Why do so many of them look exactly the same as each other? These are the same questions I find myself facing at this time every year, but this time I’m determined to do something about it, utilizing a little technique I read about over at Fi’s blog. It goes like this:

First of all, you make sure all of the hangers in your wardrobe are facing the same direction. (I’ll just sit here and look smug while you do that, because I, of course, am far too anal about these things to permit my hangers to be any other way.) Then basically every time you wear something, you turn the hanger around to face the opposite direction, the idea being that as the weeks go by, you’re able to see at a glance which items are actually earning their keep, and which ones are just passengers in the wardrobe, hanging there unworn while I go out and merrily buy 19 more of them.

I’m going to try this for the next couple of months anyway, and then I’m going to be ruthless and send all of the “passengers” to the charity shop. So that I can go out and replace them with… well, probably with more of the same, knowing me.

(And no, the wardrobe changeover did not lead to the discovery of the missing green dress. I’d hoped it would, but I think it’s time now to accept that the dress is gone for good. Just like my tax disc, top, and that really important letter I threw in the bin on Friday, but managed to rescue two days later when I finally noticed it was missing.)

I’ve been talking in my sleep again, folks. In the early hours of Monday morning, for instance, I apparently rolled over in bed and said to Terry, “Don’t worry: I’ll be your wall!” Which is nice. Well, I mean, everyone needs a wall, don’t they? He can lean on me! Or… sit on me! Rubin can… well, probably pee on me, but you know, still nice.

Sadly for me, though, the only wall I have been encountering recently is the wall of clothing in my hallway:

The Great Wall of Clothing. Dog not included.

Terry brought this little lot down from the attic for me on Sunday afternoon. What’s scary about this (other than the WOLF lying on top of it, obviously) is that this pile doesn’t even include all of the coats and jackets that are also up there. Whoops.

You see, because our house has approximately no storage whatsoever, I’m forced to actually DO that thing magazines are always advising you to do, whereby you kind of “rotate” your wardrobe, putting half of it into storage when the seasons change. I don’t really do it on a seasonal basis, because we don’t actually have seasons in Scotland, but at this time of year I will generally throw some of my winter coats up there, and also some other stuff that I have suddenly and inexplicably decided I can’t stand to give wardrobe space to for one second longer.

The idea, of course, is that in a few months time, I get it all back down again, and if I STILL don’t think I’ll wear the whatever-it-is that’s up there, I give it to charity. The problem with that though? Well, once my clothes go into the attic, they generally remain there for… well, forever. Because I basically forget what’s up there. Then I think to myself, “Oh, I really need a whatever-it-is!” and I go and buy one, forgetting that there’s already about twelve of them in the attic. I’d like to say this is why I have something like ten black sweaters/cardigans, but they weren’t even IN the attic, so I guess I’ll have to come up with another excuse for that one. Insanity, maybe.

Anyway, this Sunday I decided it was time to put an end to the madness. Two massive bags of Stuff went to the charity shop this morning, and a bunch of other Stuff was re-instated in my wardrobe, where it’s currently being given a Second Chance. I hope it doesn’t waste it.

Meanwhile, Terry installed a hanging pole in the top of the wardrobe in the office, and went out and bought these:

Coathangers FTW!

I like to hang things up. No, I mean, I REALLY like to hang things up. I’d hang up everything if I could. Even underwear. OK, maybe not underwear. But I try to hang as much as I possibly can: I hate folding because everything just ends up horribly creased (see Space: lack off) and also, I invariably end up just wearing the items from the top of the pile over and over again, then replacing them when they get old, while the stuff at the bottom just lies there, forgotten and lonely. This way at least I can see what’s actually there, get more use out of what I have, and hopefully nip that whole “black sweater” thing in the bud.

I can also go shopping. Because, obviously, that’s what all this was all about…

One day soon, I will write a post here that ISN’T about the surprises Terry gave me for my birthday.  Maybe tomorrow, in fact. Or, you know, maybe not, because I’m actually quite enjoying writing posts that don’t require me to engage my brain for more than a few seconds at a time (“What?” I hear you say. “You’ve written posts where you DID engage your brain? Show me them!”), so, meh, we’ll see.

Anyway, just to prove that not all of my birthday surprises involved food, on Sunday afternoon I called in the “H&M Surprise”, which basically involved a shopping trip in which I was allowed to choose two things to buy. Clearly there was a limit to this, which is why this post isn’t called, “HOLY CRAP I GOT TWO PAIRS OF LOUBOUTINS, WHOO HOO!”, but I have to say, it was still a whole lot of fun.

And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I bought a black dress or some shoes, aren’t you? Well, you are wrong! For once I decided to go against my usual dress-and-shoe-buying-instincts and buy something else. This was mostly prompted by the fact that pretty much ALL I can think about at the moment is summer, and holidays, and weather which can be described without use of the phrases “aaargh!” or “shoot me now, please.” So I got a pair of shorts and a sweater:

And I was totally lying about the “not buying shoes” thing, because on the way back to the car, I spotted these little canvas flats:

“Buy us!” they seemed to cry. “For we, too, will be the perfect addition to your summer holiday wardrobe! Also, we are cheap as chips!”

So, naturally,  I bought them. I bought them myself, though, so they’re not part of the surprises, and really have no place in this entry. Sorry.

(P.S. Terry says thank you very much for all your lovely comments about his surprises, and you’re welcome to use the idea in any way you wish! I, meanwhile, say, “No, you can’t have him!”)

Although I didn’t mention it on this blog (because that would have made it REAL, and, well, I didn’t really want it to be), at the start of this year I realised I’d been just a little bit “spendy” lately, so I decided to make an effort to cut back on buying clothes.  (Not shoes, though. One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to “buy more shoes” after all, and by God, I will do it if it kills me! Or if Terry kills me because of it, whichever comes first.)

I DID make the mistake of telling Terry about my resolution, though, and he made a little “we’ll see about that” noise and then suggested it might be “fun” if I tried to keep track of just how many clothes I DO buy this year. By that I think he meant it would be fun for him, because it would allow Mr “Three Monitors” Man over there to feel all superior about the fact that he DOESN’T buy too many clothes, just lots of monitors and stuff.

Anyway. Because I am stupid, I decided to take him up on his suggestion and I now present the list of Things I Bought in January:

3 pairs of shoes (WIN!)

1 dress

1 skirt

4 tops

And actually, I think this may turn out to be a counter-productive exercise, because when I see it all written down like that, it doesn’t really look too bad, does it? (Maybe I should try to spend MORE? Food for thought, there…) Especially when you consider that one pair of shoes was in the sale for £10, all of the tops were cheap basics, like long-sleeve t-shirts and vest/tunic things, that are actually essential to life.

All the same, resolution for February: buy less than that.

(Let’s just ignore the fact that yesterday? I went shopping. That doesn’t really count, though, because I only bought gym clothes and I HAD to buy gym clothes because I was in danger of being mistaken for a homeless person every time I tried to exercise.)

Also: it’s been snowing here for the past 24 hours now. I feel I have to mention this because it’s been more or less the only topic of conversation on Twitter and Facebook all day today, and I’m starting to feel left out because I’m apparently the only person in the world who doesn’t get super-excited by the snow. I hate the snow. It’s cold and wet and it makes driving dangerous, and when you work from home ANYWAY, you don’t even get a snow day. Bah, humbug.

Oooh, also: Terry has been giving the blog a bit of a facelift. Isn’t it pretty? Say it is pretty.