Cleaning closets is NOT my favorite thing to do. When we added a master bedroom and closet onto our 1961 cottage/ranch frame house back in 1999, all I could think of was how much more space we would have in our closet. I mean, we could actually walk in and shut the door behind us! Walk-in closets were standard for many, but for us it was a luxury
Little did I know that “all that space” would soon become filled just like my small closet had in what was now my daughter’s room. Just like gas molecules fill the volume of the space they are in, our stuff filled the new closet in no time flat. Yes, I could still see my clothes and shoes better, and there was actually space to move, and even room for a tall chest of drawers, but all available corners, floors, rods, shelves, and drawers were soon occupied.
I am good at purging occasionally, but hubby does not allow me to touch his things, so the only thing I can do with him is remove outdated or outgrown (wink) clothes. When I discovered what great storage pieces vintage suitcases could be, I added those to hold old calendars, out-of-season clothing and shoes, and motorcycle and hunting gear. But with no labels we soon forgot what was in the suitcases!
Today I fixed all that! I had lots of tags left over from Natalie’s wedding so I decided to utilize those on the suitcase handles as labels. I’m pleased with the results, although I need to slow down and clean up my edges a bit. I didn’t think to take photos before I started cleaning, but just imagine half the stuff on the floor from when I yanked down and emptied suitcases to
use in the wedding.
|Hats and motorcycle gear. . .|
|House deed, etc. plus a hatbox with scarves, etc.|
|This tall chest of drawers holds my jewelry, belts, and scarves.|
|Hats, bags, more jewelry, and my tree stand harness!|
|I repainted and mod podged this little dresser myself! A vintage suitcase holding odds and ends
fits perfectly where the middle drawer used to be!
Now. I wonder how long I can keep
it this way? And now I see how mismatched all my hangers are. . .sigh. . .