I have some strange quirks. Every so often, I become aware of a new one. Not that the quirk itself is new, merely the realisation that it’s strange. I think everyone has these. Odd little things we do that seem perfectly normal until you mention them to someone and they blanch and say “You do what? Well, that’s weird.” And then you think about it and are forced to agree with them.
The first cab off my quirk rank for 2010 has to do with getting dressed.
It’s sale time so chances are; you’ve added a few things to your wardrobe. Me too. After buying a new item of clothing, most people split into two camps: those who excitedly wear their new purchase as soon as possible and those who don’t.
It’s lonely in the latter camp.
You see, when I buy something new, I take it home and then I don’t wear it. I hang it in my wardrobe with great ceremony or fold it carefully and put it in a drawer. I look at it fondly and feel a sense of happy anticipation when I think about putting it on. But I don’t wear it. Not the next day. Not that weekend. Not the following week and sometimes never.
So what’s with the delayed gratification? What am I? A squirrel? I don’t do delayed gratification in any other area of my life. My friends can confirm that my spoon is in the dessert before the waiter has even put it down on the table. But with my clothes, I am forever on hold.
Once upon a wardrobe, this delay was probably due to the hide-and-lie approach I applied to all new purchases. Determined to conceal my shopping, I’d smuggle carry bags into the house, carefully dispose of the evidence and then wait for a discrete time to wear my contraband and insist, “No, this is not new”. But I don’t bother with all that anymore. My husband never minded me shopping anyway so I gave it up when I eventually realised it was no longer sport.
These days there’s no logical reason to leave my clothes hanging idle. And I don’t just do this with new clothes. I also do it with clothes I really like.
My thought process goes something like this:
“Oh, this outfit looks nice. Wait, I should save it for another day. Better take it off.” And then I put on something that looks worse and I leave the house.
What I am saving my ‘nice’ clothes for is never clear, especially to me. I’m also baffled by what affect wearing something today might have on that future mythical occasion when I will ‘need’ it more. Can’t I do both? Apparently not.