My clothes hang on an exposed rod on my bedroom wall, so I’m forced to look at everything I own, every day. It makes me crazy to see clothes I don’t wear, just hanging there gathering dust. I feel like they’re glaring at me. Alongside, of course, her genius folding technique, the single best bit from that Marie Kondo book is about not forcing yourself to keep something because you feel guilty about how much money you spent on it. I used to do that, and then I’d feel like shit every time I saw, for example, the leather pants I paid way too much money for back in 2003. (They looked amazing on me! But they tore, and I paid way too much money to have them repaired, and then they tore again. GONE.) 

Purging continues to be one of my favorite pastimes.
 
I frequently drop bags of crap at Goodwill or Out of the Closet. And by “crap,” I mean totally wearable, non-special clothes. This I consider Level One Purging. Admirable, but not heroic. Level Two Purging is giving away great things I never wear. Beautiful bright-red sneakers, one half size too small. The perfect black booties, one whole size too narrow. A caftan that made me feel like a fraud. The trick is to give it to someone who will appreciate it. I’m still learning how to do this, matching the right item with the right friend, letting go of a thing I have cherished—and maybe spent too much money on. When I succeed, it’s a rush. And it makes me feel better about taking shopping risks. You can't always predict what will be your new favorite can't-live-without-it item of clothing and what will be a WOOL TANK TOP just hanging in your closet glaring at you.