Life’s about to get Real … Real fast.
It’s the 6 week countdown to moving out of Canada’s House in LA, and I’m into my 3rd closet purge in as many weeks. Needless to say, I’ve been wading through an embarrassing amount of clothes, mementos and trinkets that I’ve picked up over the years. Less evidence of my conspicuous consumption and more a reflection of my inability to clean up my act and clear out my past. Not exactly an episode of Hoarders, but I’ve got work to do nonetheless.
The Pareto principle tells us that we habitually wear only 20 percent of our closet - and with a move coming up it’s time to deal with the other 80 percent. And fast.
Thank heavens for the RealReal concierge who’s on her way to help me with this pile of stuff (Miranda would be mortified). I am finally dealing with years of closet accumulation - after admitting to myself that I don’t need to keep all the things that I’ve carried with me through the 10+ moves that I’ve made since becoming an adult.
it’s different this time, darling. Facing a future where I don’t know where my next closet will be, or what I’ll need to fill it with, feels simultaneously daunting - and excitingly emancipating. We consciously made the decision to move on, picked an arbitrary date, and it’s coming up fast with a packed calendar of other things needing doing in the meantime. So I dive in to organizing when I can.
Thankfully, I learned early to travel lightly, having lived and worked in jobs in Toronto, NYC and Denver, before returning to Canada to take the lead role at the CBC. Add Geneva, another couple nyc moves and you’d think I’d have this move thing down pat. And since I’m not an overly aggressive consumer, I don’t feel like I amassed enough to claim clotheshorse status (what does that even mean? Do horses have big wardrobes?).
But the trail of possessions grew. Partly because it felt wasteful to me to “turn over” my closet, since the clothes I own are as useful as they are beautiful; some made by friends and amazing artists, some were investments, and most of them hold sentimental memories that I feel whenever I spy them in my wardrobe. So it happens that over time, the “stuff” adds up, darling…
I found myself over the past couple years regrouping closets from New York, Toronto, Geneva into the latest collection here in LA - and what emerged was a smorgasbord of seasonal clothing I may never need again (or will I?…) And clothes for occasions and work situations I may never again encounter (or will I?…). And now that this size 4 is now solidly a size 6 (Nigel “I don’t know if we’ll have anything in your size” DWP ref #2), the time has come to Marie Kondo this collection and divvy it up for resale, charity and friends.
I’ve always envied the “capsule collection” wardrobes of the incredibly stylish and impressively efficient women I looked up to. But whither Donna Karan’s boss bitch aesthetic in a world where fast fashion and trad wife frills exploded (quite literally) everywhere. And while I mostly avoided that trap, I do enjoy injecting a good COS or Zara piece into my wardrobe for some fun among the serious Max Mara work wear and the high concept Greta Constantine gowns (Jesse, those gowns stay safely in whichever closet I move to next…).
But I ask you darling…how do I curate a capsule collection to suit my fabulous new life, when I don’t know yet what that life is about to be??
At least the task of paring things down has taken me down a spectacular fashion memory lane. From my youthful days buying Vogue patterns and some wool crepe at Fabricland (Fabricland!) to sew my early suits, to being rescued by the likes of the spectacular Nicholas Mellamphy who was always equipped with the perfect loan for yet another event or splendid evening - to haunting the sales at the Room or online at The Outnet and OffFifth, over time I put together much of what I now see laid out in front of me. Each acquisition an exercise in doing the best with what I had at the time. With a little help from my friends, of course darling. (ykwya).
It’s not lost on me that we are currently in Fashion Week season, in what feels like designers’ most robust return since we locked ourselves indoors and rode out the pandemic in tie-dye sweats. Quite the contrast to the smart-looking women strutting the catwalks of NYC and London these past weeks.
I read all my September issues faithfully, and am encouraged by the return of the tailored silhouette and the turn of a slightly sharper shoulder. But now that I’m in LA, wherever would I wear those darkly beautiful pieces (is that why LA Fashion week doesn’t hold the same cachet?). Unless I needed the extra padding to get me through the aisles of Erewhon, I’m not sure I could justify investing in the purchase (and who could afford it after buying $25 strawberries anyway). *note darling reader, I do not actually shop at Erewhon:)
So now that I’m getting ready to pack up, I’m open to staying here in LA or wandering wherever I’m next needed, I bid farewell to these wonderful pieces. I can only hope that they’ll help someone new create their own special moments, wearing something that makes them feel spectacular. There’s really nothing like feeling “turned out”. There’s a confidence that comes with it.
In the immortal words of George Michael’s aptly named Freedom “sometimes the clothes do not make the (wo)man”. But, darling, I have learned the right outfit certainly CAN make you look and feel so good while you’re busy making a life. And for that, I thank you dear wardrobe, and i bid you adieu. Pret a deporter 💃
Kirstine you've done an amazing job for Canada in L.A. and for the film and television industry. Here's to an exciting new chapter in your story!