Shelfless Service

Yoga Don't
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What:  A favorite yoga top.
Origin:  Desire to keep movement in my chestal area down to a dull roar while saluting the sun.
How long kept:   Probably 9 years?   Maybe 8.
Why kept:   It's cute.   Nostalgia.   Sticky.   It's Perfectly Good, only it's not.   See confession.
Usage:  Frequently, until fairly recently.   (I don't maintain a vast yoga wardrobe.)
Destination:  Textile recycling.

Confession:   The upside, so to speak, of a good yoga top:   its inner shelf bra.   (There's a joke in here somewhere using the word "rack" -- shelf, rack, get it? -- but I just can't do it...at least not while maintaining my feminist self image.   I have to draw the line somewhere.)

But I digress.   The shelf bra had lost all elasticity; there was a near accident the last time I tried handstand in this top -- thankfully layered under a longsleeved, if dangerously v-neck,  t-shirt.  

(Thing is, the outer shell may be Kevlar, it's that bullet-proof.   No pilling, no stretching!   Looks as good as new.   Part of what made it so hard to say goodbye...)

Son Of Fleece

What:  Another fleece.
Origin:  My dad lent this to me, probably for a trip back from Chicagoland.  (It can be flippin' cold on the plane!)  
How long kept:  5-6 years?
Why kept/Usage:  I wore it from time to time.   It Might Be Useful.   It reminded me of my dad.  Nostalgia, the good kind.
Destination:  Return to Lender.   It's en route back to Chicagoland and Dad's stash of outerwear.

Confession:   This is huge on me!   I used to have the habit of wearing gigantic things...it started in the Flashdance era.   But some time in the 90s I realized that clothes that actually fit me are far more flattering.

Confession, part deux:   My dad did tell me that I could keep it.   But I don't need it, I have two other fleeces, and many other things to remind me of Dad.

NB:  This is not going to Mom, and thus does not violate either the letter or spirit of the Rules.

Speedout of My House

What:  A shell I used to wear running.
Origin:   Desire for a pocket, and to stay dry-ish while running.
How long kept:  Uh, I think since 1995.
Why kept:  It's Outerwear -- Someone Might Need It.  (After all, it's Perfectly Good.)  Out of Sight, Out of Mind.   And oddly Sticky.  See confession.
Usage:   Oh, not in a good long while.   My last race was the Philly half-marathon in 1996.
Destination:  Housing Works

Confession:   When I looked at this again today, I actually had  an almost physical pang of attachment as I held it on its hanger.   I realized it was Sticky.

It wasn't until after it was gone that I remembered wearing it in the half-marathon.   Nostalgia, the good kind.

(Addendum, November 8.   When I re-read this last night, I actually had a memory of buying this, at the Speedo store that used to be in the World Trade Center...also Nostalgia, the bittersweet kind.)

Fleeced

What:  Fleece top.
Origin:  Our family did a Christmas photo a couple of years back where we were all wearing the same fleece top.   (Is this a Protestant thing?   Seriously.   There was, thankfully, no plaid involved.)  
How long kept:  I think two years.
Why kept:  I Might Need It.  See confession.
Usage:  Sometimes.
Destination:  Housing Works.

Confession:   I have 3 other fleece tops, one which hiked in the Himalayas, Nostalgia.  These things are made from plastic bottles:  they'll never wear out.   I don't need 4.   (Also, this orange-y red?  Not flattering on me.)

Confession, part deux:  Before dispatching this, I had 3 conversations.   One, with my mom, to see if we'd ever be called on to wear these again, en masse.   Mom told me to ask "M."   Conversed with The Hubby when "M" was napping -- he told me to ask my mom and dad.   Finally, I texted "M." When she woke up, she told me something like, I had to keep it forever, "LOL."

(Note to family:   Next time we do a holiday photo, may I suggest black turtlenecks?)

Confession, cont:  At this late date, and we really have been at this almost a year, an aha moment.   Our family has an issue with Outerwear.   And in some seasons, this fleece would be Outerwear.   Between my parents and my generation, we must have a good walk-in closet filled with coats going back to the 1950s, possibly earlier.   (I can think of at least 2-3 coats of mine at my mom's house.   Get ready, Mom and Dad, to say good bye to them!)

Scarves, hats, gloves...the only way we part with 'em is to lose 'em. 

This is a family quirk, perhaps because of our Northern European DNA, some from places where it's only light a few hours during the winter days...I'm not sure it's worthy of a category.   It's a special case of I/Someone Might Need It.

Nonetheless, stay tuned for my outerwear as it heads "outer" my house...and at a time of year when local charities start requesting it.

Exhale

What:  A small pin with an affirmation.
Origin:  A meditation course I took.
Usage:   Kind of a lot, I guess.   It was out in a place where I saw it with some frequency.
How long kept:  Since 2005.
Why kept:   Nostalgia.   The good kind.
Destination:  A servicemember I've taught yoga to on a couple of occasions, via US Mail.   We email from time to time, and he's always glad to be reminded to breathe.  (Or so he says.)

Confession:  This is the kind of tchochke that I don't pick up any more.   I'm still kind of haunted by the guy who only has 57 things.   How long did it take him to get rid of everything?  How did that work, where did all of his stuff go?

(Maybe if I read his blog, I'd know more.   But I'm kind of blogging the blogosphere.   Not to the extent that I've dumped TV...but it does have potential to be the same kind of time sink.

Aargh

What:  Tiny little spray bottle of Evian.
Origin:  Desire to remain moist while flying.
How long kept:  I bought this in Hong Kong in 1995, back in the day when you could bring something like this on a plane.
Why kept:  Sticky.   I knew it wasn't useful, but it reminded me of an amazing trip I took back in the day.   On the rare occasion I really looked at it -- Out of Sight Out of Mind in one of my medicine cabinets....Nostalgia:  the good kind.
Destination:  Trash.

Aargh.

Too Many Cooks. Not.

What:   A stack of random recipes, about an inch high.   See confession.
Origin:  Some highly unrealistic expectations.
How long kept:   Some of these since the last century, if the yellowed state of the newspaper clippings can be be any indication.   One, ripped unceremoniously from Martha Stewart Living, was dated April, 2001.
Why kept:  Because I might actually have some kind of magical experience or neural event that turns me into a cook.
Usage:  Not so much.  I kept the few that might some use.   I Might Need Them.
Why kept:   Mostly Out of Sight, Out of Mind.   
Destination:  Recycling, my friends.

Confession:  I'm actually trying to cook more.   I made an insanely hearty vegetable broth last weekend, based on a recipe in Mark Bittman's vegetarian cookbook.  (I substituted beer for white whine.  And what the hey, more beer.   Crazy good.)  This has been the basis of many meals for the last week.

Confession, part deux:   This was the second pass through my recipe stash, I thought.   Maybe I didn't post the others.  These are the recipes I saved because, I don't know, They Might Be Useful?

If I had a therapist I'd have to take these in for a laugh:

• Multiple recipes for rice pudding, which I've made once in my life.  A large handful of recipes for baked apples.  (And I do make this simple dish from time to time.)  And a sampling of pumpkin recipes.   Can you say comfort food?   (As if pumpkin panna cotta is ever in my culinary future.)
• Recipes for inexplicably simple recipes, like pasta with walnuts and olive oil.   Uh, I needed to tear that out of the paper and store it for how many years?   (At the price of NYC housing, over the years, even a small torn out page has gotta add up to a couple of bucks in rent.)
• A couple of recipes from people who are no longer in my life.   Nostalgia, and not the good kind.

But I don't have a therapist:  this blog will have to do.

Chicken tuition

Chicken tuition
Originally uploaded by DeClutter

Oh so about 10+ years a ago, I remember this SO clearly. I remember where I was driving and everything. I'm listening to the radio and there is a commercial for Chicken Tuition. "Huh??" I thought. "Where are these chickens going to school?" I listen VERY hard and they are talking about a razor. I was confused until they said the name again. "Schick Intuition". I laffed!!

What: razor that needs special cartridges. The razor has a soap like product around it. It would run out before the razor was dull.
Why kept: I might need it, sticky, and it's kind of cool. Nostalgia (the good kind) It also brings back the memory of that day driving past the post office. And finally it was a gift from Mom
How long kept: well I finished my last cartridge probably last summer. I have another razor that uses inexpensive refills so I use that.
Destination: trash. I don't think it's recyclable
Confession. I did keep the suction cup that held in the shower... It might be useful :)

Not-Holders (Any More)

Not Holders Any More
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: 3 fraying and of the last century potholders.
Origin: The desire to hold pots.
Last used: In August.
How long kept: Probably since 1994-ish?
Why kept: Why, They're Perfectly Good. (And a bit Out of Sight, Out of Mind, as often as I cook.)
Destination: Textile recycling.

Confession: As a lower Manhattan resident, I thought a lot about what to post...if anything...today. But I realized that today of all days was a good day to let go, so I searched my memory for something I still owned that I actually purchased at the WTC.  

Nostalgia. The kind of weird and actually in this moment funny kind. Perhaps inappropriately so. It's complicated.  Sticky.

These babies came from Lechter's, which was on the street level of what I think was 3 WTC, near the Vesey Street exit. Lechters had closed that store maybe in 2000, and the chain had gone bankrupt at some point in 2001.

Confession, part deux: There's another black one. I hope it's in the laundry, otherwise, I'll have to give myself an "Aaargh." When it turns up, it's gone, too.

Confession, cont: The other thing I'm thinking of blogging is my neighborhood, which I've loved since I started working here in 1990; I moved here in 1994. All kinds of change upon change has been at times challenging, but (mostly) manageable.  But the passion and anger around the site seems only to become worse as time goes on.

We all used to talk about finding the "new normal".  Today, people who don't live here make careers by stirring others up...and actually shape the neighborhood itself.  It doesn't look like that's going away. Sigh.

Addendum: On a positive note, I'm going to get my sewing machine out -- right now -- and make myself some new potholders.

Update:

Thanks, Craftzine, for the instructions (which I didn't follow to the T).  Great for converting stuff from my fabric stash into something useful.  Both my sis "K" (who lurks here sometimes) and my sis-in-law "W" (who I don't think does) might recognize some of the fabric I used, since they were the generous donors.

Scents of Summers Past, and Passing

WTH!?  Expired Sunblock.
Origin:  Various.   One of them was an SPF 4, left behind by a former in-law who was a tanner.
Last Used:   Ugh, who knows.  See confession.  
Why kept:  Mostly Out of Sight, Out of Mind.   They Might Be Useful (in future summers.)
Destination:   Down the drain with the contents, bottles to recycling.  (I'm in suburban Chicago, where this stuff actually gets recycled...)

Confession:  Note the expiration dates.   Ack.   I'm sure that the sunblock that expired in 99 has been used in this century.

Confession, part deux:  It smelled so good going down the drain.   Umm, Coppertone.   Nostalgia.   The good kind.

Confession, part trois:  I found a sunscreen in my mom's medicine chest that expired in 2007.  I asked her if we could blog this one, too.   (Not pictured, and I guess it doesn't really count.)

Conclusion:  I believe that this is the end of all extraneous sunscreens that could possibly exist in the 'verse of this blog.   I have a couple in current rotation, for various uses.   And lesson learned, again.   The large size is never a bargain, there's always some left when it expires.

Artful Dodger

What:  Art book.
Origin:   The book was written by an acquaintance, a friend of a then-close friend.
How long kept:  Probably 15 years.
Why kept:  Mostly Out of Sight, Out of Mind, in plain sight on my bookshelf.   The book is also gorgeous, and on a topic of growing interest.   See confession.
Destination:   Housing Works.

Confession:   When examining this book, I realized that I felt a bit bossed into buying it.   Nostalgia, and not the good kind.   I confess that I listed this first edition book on Amazon to see if it might sell.   (Like another one that surprised me.)   But it didn't.

(Which reminds me, I'd better make sure I took that listing down.   D'oh.)

That said, I'll have no Housing Works guilt about this book.   They have a gorgeous store over on Crosby, and I imagine that this book might land there, rather than joining the popular fiction on sale at my local shop.   And someone will definitely enjoy this book.

I'll enjoy it being gone.

Pint-Sized Times Nine

What: A bunch of glasses.   7 or 8 classic pint glasses, and another couple of odd leftover drinking glasses.
Origin: A girl's gotta drink!
How long kept:  One of the leftovers dated back to my first apartment, 1984.   I amassed the pint glasses in the late 80s after moving to NYC, buying many of them at the original Fishs Eddy over on Hudson Street for a buck fifty.
Why kept:   They Were Perfectly Good!   As previously noted, a girl's gotta drink, and I used them every day.   Thus They Might Be Useful; I Might Need Them.   And a tiny little bit of Nostalgia.   (The good kind, but I'm not exactly sure why glassware would evoke this:  Sticky!)
Destination:  Housing Works.

Confession:   While these glasses are Perfectly Good, in terms of utility, they are looking a little beat up.   Nothing truly terrible, but they are showing some wear.

Funny thing, I didn't notice this until I decided that I would prefer some more age appropriate, gender appropriate drinkware.   (I woke up one recent day feeling like only a frat boy should be drinking from the pint glasses I've used for a zillion years.)

Should I feel guilt for giving them to Housing Works?   Are they good enough for Housing Works to sell?   Should I have tried to Freecycle them?  What happens to things that aren't good enough for Housing Works to sell?


Aargh.

Office Flotsam

Office Flotsam
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: A variety of unused supplies.  Everything worked, and some were duplicates.
Origin: Various, see confession.
How long kept/Last Used: Some of the stuff hails from the mid-90s.
Why kept: They Might Be Useful! I Might Need Them!
Destination: I brought them, in a ziploc bag, to a not-for profit meditation center where I was taking a class. 

Confession: I have a small school pencil box that contains my office supplies.  This summer, I think because I've found stuff and consolidated it, I lost the ability to close the box. Aargh.   I have more binder clips than I could ever use; how many pink highlighters do I need?

While I find it necessary to keep this sort of stuff contained in one place, it's still a storage box that keeps things Out Of Sight, Out of Mind.   Storage Boxes are Evil.   Even when useful.

And finally, there were a couple of brand new, never sharpened pencils from corporate events I used to attend back in my banking days. One of the pencils was branded with a company I inherited as a client from someone who had been doing a less than stellar job. I still remember driving back from my first meeting with the Treasurer, who had berated me for 45 minutes straight, using pretty much every obscenity in the book. It took about a year to turn that one around. Nostalgia. And not all the good kind.

Bonus: The good people at the meditation center were grateful beyond the magnitude of the gift. (And this is the sort of institution where they lend out a lot of pens and pencils. Next time maybe I'll take a box of new pens to them.)

Freecycle Failure

Freecycle Failure
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

I pride myself on the ability to market almost any item on Freecycle. This one didn't go.

The posting:

"OFFER: Vintage Valise (Not in great shape) Lower Manhattan

Approximately 20 inches long, 12 inches wide and 12 inches tall, this tan valise (1940s?) is a find from my days haunting thrift stores and tag sales.

The bag is coming apart at the seams; it's aged, scuffed and full of patina. The handles are secure and well attached. I'm doubtful that it could be repaired and used as a suitcase -- a particularly crafty person might find a way to upcycle, recycle or repurpose it as a possible decor item.

It's clean. I'm pretty sure I would have saddle soaped it back in the day; it has been in my closet for probably 20 years.

Please respond only if you can pick up before Monday, August 9. Please be willing to communicate via email, and commit to -- and keep -- a pickup time.

Though it's a bit unwieldy, it can be carried by the handles. I'll wrap it in plastic to ease transport. You'll be able to pick it up before the 9th from a 24 hour building.

Thanks, Freecyclers."

Now, maybe the fact that I didn't post it on the weekend had something to do with its failure to "sell".

One additional note:   While the main problem with the bag itself -- other than the fact that I no longer wanted it -- was that the stitching was rotten.   Repair wasn't a simple matter of getting it sewn back up.   I Might Fix It is a such a trap for me, and it keeps things stuck.

Other notes on the Why Kept front:  Sticky, Nostalgia, Out of Sight Out of Mind and Storage Boxes are Evil. (It was in a basket, being used as a storage box in the now far more spacious closet!)

Destination: Textile recycling at Union Square Greenmarket.  (They take shoes, so I reasoned that they'd take this small bag, too.)   I considered leaving it on the street, but realized that it might frighten -- or even endanger -- a police officer if someone thought it looked suspicious.

Work It. Elsewhere.

Work It. Elsewhere.
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: A mound of no-longer-worn work clothing.
Origin: Various.
How long kept/usage: The oldest item was a suit last worn in the mid-90s. The newest items were purchased circa 2005/2006, most of them last worn in 2007. See confession.
Why kept: I might wear them again, and thus They Might Be Useful. They were in my closet -- Out Of Sight, Out of Mind. The 90s suit, in particular, Nostalgia, I loved that suit! See confession.
Destination: Housing Works. In almost the last shopping bag.

Confession: There were several pairs of black work pants, two of them too large, and the other unflattering. All were out of style (mostly pant legs too wide). Yes, maybe a tailor could have either made them fit or narrowed the pant legs...but best they find someone who likes them as they are.

Rumination:  Last weekend, I visited one of my oldest friends.   After some quality conversation about age-appropriate business-appropriate clothing, and how much of our old stuff we were holding onto,  I was galvanized to empty my closet of clothing that no longer serves me. (Stay tuned for more, as well as more rumination on the topic on why Storage Boxes Are Evil.)

I have two other 90s era suits that I hung onto, mostly Sticky, Nostalgia. With the help of a good tailor, I do think that one of the jackets can be re-purposed and worn over a sheath dress.   (Stay tuned to see whether I'll actually do that.)

Recently, I found and got very charged up about The Uniform Project. Since I work with many different clients, and don't go into the same office every day, I really don't need to own a closet full of work clothes! Left to my own devices, I would be tempted to wear the same thing every day. (Like Harriet the Spy!)

The young women in The Uniform Project wear the same versatile dresses every day for a period of time, dressed up or down with accessories or by using design features that alter the appearance of the dress.   These dresses are darling -- my quest is for an age appropriate version of their "little black dress."

Kicking Glass

Kicking Glass
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: An assortment of small glass containers, some I think were odd punch cups. (Also, one stray candle holder and a shot glass.)
Usage: Probably not much in this century, see confession.
How long kept: Since the early/mid-90s.
Why kept: They Might Be Useful. Nostalgia. They're Perfectly Good.
Destination: Housing Works.

Confession: In the 90s, these were pressed into frequent service in my home, holding votive candles, particularly during dinners with friends and other opportunities to entertain. Like a trend, it passed...and I also became more aware of fire safety, too, and curtailed my use of candles in the house.

I can probably name 3 times in the last 10 years I've pulled them out of the top shelf of my kitchen cabinet to wash them. (How does dust get into these usually closed cabinets?) Each time I've put them back into the cabinets.

(And I need to stand on either a ladder or on the kitchen counter to access this shelf. I'm petite. So nothing stored up there is getting frequent use.)

Confession, part deux:  There are another 15 or 20 votive candle holders up there.

Sticky.

Bonus:   This stuff is heading over to Housing Works in one of the bags from the dwindling shopping bag stash.

P.S. The other day, I floated to the top of the NYPL waiting list for Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things, by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee.   This book got a bit of press earlier in the year, and I had wanted to read it.   Something I read this morning prompted me to clamber up onto the kitchen counter and get another bunch of votive holders down...they're gone now, too.  

Worth reading, and I'll come back to it. In short, some of the people who have serious problems with stuff are considering their stuff in some of the same terms we are here (i.e. It Might Be Useful, Someone Might Need It, Guilt. etc.) They're thinking the same thoughts we are, about a lot more of their stuff.

A Milestone Around My Neck

A Milestone Around My Neck
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: Shirt, personalized to commemorate a friend's milestone birthday.
Origin:  His enthusiastic, creative fiancée.
How long kept: Since May, 2008.
Why kept: Nostalgia.
Destination: Textile Recycling.

Confession:  This men's t-shirt -- which had a caricature of my friend, cleverly tied in to one of his hobbies and his age -- never fit correctly.   It was really only meant to be worn at the party, which was a little over 2 years ago.    Sticky.

Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha: You've Been Cancelled (from my Closet)

Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha: I'm Over You.
Originally uploaded by 365 Things

What: Ginormous HBO Swag t-shirt.
Origin: Our bro knew someone who worked at HBO who gave him this (slightly) torn shirt.
How Long Kept: Since the late 90s.
Why kept: Uh, It Might Be Useful? If I were Carrie circa 1997, wearing it as a dress with a pair of cowboy boots and a patent leather belt...or if I were LeBron James.
Destination: Textile Recycling.

Confession: I checked ebay. Even if it weren't torn, it's not worth $9.99.

Confession, cont: I missed the first movie, and have no desire to see the second. I've netflixed the TV show a few times, and it has some nice Nostalgia value. But, for me, it does not translate to the present in so many ways...

Bottle Baby

What:  Empty bottle
Origin:  A good friend made some lovely homemade lotions and soaps as gifts.   In 2001.
How long kept:  The lotion was long gone; the clean, but empty bottle has been in my cabinet since probably 2002.
Why kept:  Like Pooh Bear, seeing this in my medicine cabinet reminded me of her.  Nostalgia.   It Was A Gift From X.
Destination:  Housing Works, along with a bottle that once contained some of her other wonderful homemade beauty goodies.

Confession:   Some crafter on Freecycle would have loved these.   I just didn't have the time or patience to deal with the less than friction-free Freecycle transaction.   Sigh.

I'm Not Waiting For The Weekend Any More

What:   A stack of books, some unread (see confession) others will never be read again.
Origin:   If you haven't noticed, I love to read!
How long kept:   Newest is about 2 years old, Madame Bovary was an annoying read about people I didn't care about.  Waiting for the Weekend, 1992?  (Ack, see confession.)
Why kept:   Might read them or might read them again, and thus They Might Be Useful.   As noted before, some have a Nostalgia component.
Destination:  My NYPL branch.   They're taking books again!

Confession:   Yeah, I probably read a review of Waiting for The Weekend in the NY Times weekend book review (I'm guessing) and bought it.   Never did get around to reading it.   I even took it off the shelf several weeks ago to see if I'd feel inspired to read it.   Not so much.   Aargh.