At some point — usually later than you planned, often on a day you didn't intend to — you open the box of clothes you put away, and try things on.
It's rarely a good afternoon. Some things fit and feel wrong. Some things fit and feel exactly right, which is somehow also unsettling. Some things don't fasten and you already knew they wouldn't. And almost everyone ends up standing in a bedroom full of fabric making decisions about their body when they thought they were making decisions about clothes.
So here's a way to do it that keeps those two things apart.
Start with the rule
You are sorting the clothes, not yourself.
Every item goes into one of three piles, and the question for each is never do I fit this? The question is does this garment work on the body I have now? Those sound like the same question. They are not. A garment can fit perfectly and still be wrong, because the proportions that suited you before may not be the ones that suit you now.
Try things on in a decent light, in one sitting, with the box already out of the bedroom. Get it done.
The three piles
Keep
Things that fit and that you'd put on this week without thinking about it. That's the whole test. Not "this is a good piece", not "this was expensive", not "this will come in useful". Would you wear it on Thursday?
Be strict here. A wardrobe of forty things you'd wear is worse than a wardrobe of twelve, because the forty make every morning a negotiation.
Alter
The most under-used pile, and the one that saves the most money. A lot of clothes that feel wrong are three centimetres away from being right.
Alters well: waistbands (letting out or taking in at the side seams), hems, dart position on a dress or blouse, sleeve length, taking a skirt in at the top without touching the shape. All routine, all cheap, all done in a week by any alterations shop.
Doesn't alter well: shoulders, armholes, anything knitted, anything with a lot of structure through the chest, and anything where the change you need is more than a size. A tailor can move a seam. A tailor cannot redraft a jacket.
If the piece is good and the problem is the waist or the length, it's worth the money. If the problem is the shoulder line, let it go.
Let go
Two kinds of things belong here, and only one of them is obvious.
The obvious kind: things that don't fit and won't, in shapes that never quite suited you anyway. Easy.
The less obvious kind: things that fit, that you're keeping as a target. The dress you'll wear when. The jeans from before. These are the ones that do real damage, because every time you open the wardrobe they're there, quietly grading you. Keeping one or two things you genuinely love and expect to wear again is fine. Keeping a shelf of them is a tax you pay every morning for no return.
What about the shape that changed?
This is the part people don't expect. A lot of clothes come out of the box fitting perfectly and still looking odd, and it's confusing because the measurements are right.
Usually it's proportion rather than size. A ribcage that widened slightly changes how a fitted shirt sits across the front. A fuller, softer middle changes where a mid-rise trouser wants to sit. A different bust shape changes how a neckline falls. None of these show up on a tape measure, and all of them change whether something looks like it was made for you.
The practical response is to stop trying to fix it with size and fix it with shape instead. If a mid-rise trouser now cuts across the softest part, a high-rise won't. If a fitted shirt strains at the front, a slightly relaxed one in the same size won't. This is the same principle the whole of 9Edits runs on, applied after the bump instead of during it.
The maternity clothes
Keep the genuinely good ones. Over-bump jeans and a couple of soft dresses will get worn for months yet, and again if there's a next time.
Pass on the rest properly rather than binning them — maternity clothes get worn for a few months and are usually in good condition, and there is always someone who needs them. Local groups, secondhand apps, a friend who's just announced. It's the one category of clothing where handing things on is completely normal and nobody thinks twice.
Afterwards, buy three things
When it's done, you'll have a smaller wardrobe with holes in it. That's the correct outcome.
Fill the holes deliberately: the two or three pieces that would make the keep pile actually work as outfits. Usually it's a trouser that fits properly, one layer that goes over everything, and one thing that isn't practical at all. Three good purchases against a clear gap will do more than a whole afternoon of browsing ever does.
And do it when you're ready, not on a schedule. The box will wait.
