So close and yet so far

That picture may not look like much but it is in fact one of the rarest sights you will ever see: a near-on perfect wardrobe.

Let me say that again for those of you not paying attention... My wardrobe is *this* [indicates small amount] close to perfection that it's not even funny. In fact it's so not funny that it's freaking HIL-AIR-I-OUS. Not that you give a fuck, no-one does, but I can't even begin to convey to you quite how delighted and peaceful this knowledge makes me. I am within sight of one of the greatest challenges ever to befall members of our generation: procuring a collection of clothes that can be mixed and matched with one another AND STILL MAKE COHERANT SENSE. And not just that they look good together but they have a narrative thread that runs through and entwines every piece so you know that each of those items belongs to a certain person. The sort of wardrobe collection that a character in a film has. And not a paranoid schizophrenic character with multiple personality disorder but someone whose looks and style are an integral part of explaining who they are as a person. More than getting married or having a child - obtaining a collection of clothes that I can wear for whatever occasion and that still retains my 'point of view' [Tim Gunnism] and I can fit into and makes me feel nice - has been my ambition since I had barbies and spent more time putting their outfits together than making them have sex with each other (was about a 70/30 split). Other people have managed this feat before of course, but never me. It has taken 27 LONG years of experimentation with skirt lengths, dress sizes, patterns, even fucking ripped jeans for chrissakes (worn with electric blue fishnets underneath natch) for me to FINALLY have a bunch of clothes that I like wearing. Not just a lot of clothes with maybe three outfits that I wear on a constant rotation and have to don jim-jams or scraggy jogging bottoms on wash day, not just a load of clothes that any one of my seventeen wildly varying personalities might decide to display at anytime of the day and night to differing levels of success but THE ENTIRE THING BEING WEARABLE. No one seems to get it but it's this exact type of 'order in a chaotic world' feeling that makes life worth living for me, like when I alphabetise my dvds or group my books into genre, I get a little lightheaded and dizzy with the power and pure joy. And now I'm NEARLY (just seven more key pieces! And five more pairs of shoes...) there with the holy grail I've been waiting my whole life to experience: contentment with one's clothes.

Now I just need to work on dealing with the panic attacks I get from thinking my room will get flooded and everything will be destroyed when I'm this close to finally being happy.