When more isn't better, and when it is

I spent an hour or so last night composing an entry for an online contest, the theme being "Five Little Luxuries." And I really started thinking about how much my definition of "luxury" has changed over the last few years. When I was younger and broke, it used to mean having nice things. While I still am appreciative of quality, I realize that I've developed a much more "Goldilocks" outlook; I'd rather have a few things that are "just right" than a whole bunch of "not quite." And right now, my closet doesn't reflect that. It's full of "almost-but-not-quite" clothes, items bought on sale or because I needed something at the last minute for an occasion or because it was kind of like the one that I'd loved and not bought until it was too late and they were sold out of my size, or because the style book I'd just read said it was a classic. Some things I never wear but am hanging onto out of sentiment like the Hawaiian shirts I bought in Hawaii, or the lavender cowl neck sweater I bought on a ski trip. I'm at the point where it gets to be overwhelming deciding what to wear in the morning because there are just too many choices. (One of my clothing purchse "rules" is that any item has to go with at least two other items already in my closet.) Stuff has been accumulating for years now, and it's time for a really ruthless closet purge. When it comes to my wardrobe, "luxury" to me would mean having just a few items I can mix and match, that all look great on me, and that would make getting dressed in the mornings a no-brainer. It's going to take some work to get me from here to there.

But in composing my "Five Little Luxuries" list, the number one thing that popped into my head was Time. More specifically, time to myself, to read, to work in the garden, to write, to have brunch with my girlfriends. And that's what I don't have enough of. I wonder if I could trade clothes for babysitting somehow?