A SERIOUS shopping habit takes decades to master. Like fine wine, it only gets better with age.
The older you are the more clothing accumulates – we excel in the purchasing process with every year that plods on by.
So, while sinking in a sea of fabric inside my son’s bedroom I was stumped as to how my toddler is now trumping me in the frock department.
Every space is littered with tiny T-shirts, toaty trousers and petite underpants. In two short years, Gabriel has managed to render my clothing collection rubbish, quite frankly.
Counting 14 pairs of jeans tucked away in a drawer I wanted to weep knowing there was probably that amount again waiting to be washed in various piles around the flat.
Visions of the poor family members dealing with habitual hoarders flashed before my eyes as the Everest of laundry continued to grow.
Looking over every item I began to understand how we got ourselves into this sorry state. Us adults have only ourselves to blame if our wardrobes grown under the pressure of pounding the plastic – but children, that’s a whole other ball game.
Grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbours and extended family fill your house full of items that you simply can’t accommodate. There is only one thing for it. A spring cull – of Gabe’s clothing, not mine. Naturally.