Crossroads of Memory Lane and Fashion Avenue

Crossroads of Memory Lane and Fashion Avenue – realising that fashion does not hold memories

I always considered myself a fashionista. From when my mom would make me wear my sisters’ clothes telling me I am super cool for wearing “big girl clothes”, heck I would even start wearing clothes of family friend’s sons, because I was brainwashed into thinking it’s cool (and I still do!), to roaming the Goodwills of this world to find the fashion jewels of long lost decades.

In this time, I accumulated A LOT OF Clothes. Tons of it. Even though my closet was always neat and tidy and only contained my essentials that I wore then, I know realized I was deceiving myself in thinking I had fashion under control. It has me under control. The boxes prove it.

I am now relocating with my husband to a new continent and we vowed we would down size. What a stupid promise to make, I realize now.

Now I am standing in front of boxes over boxes of my own personal history. No diaries required, no photos taken, just the memory lane of fashion avenue.

I take the leather jacket into both my hands, rub my cheek against the soft leather and remember that chilly spring night and the horrible date I had with this guy, William. Then I uncover a bright pink original Japanese Kimono I got in Amsterdam, on a trip visiting another failed boyfriend who lived there and was everything I now dislike about the Dutch (sorry guys, I know it’s unfair but my emotions about this are strong), I dig out the most fantastic high heels I have ever owned. Super comfy but sexy as HELL. I remember the dancing nights spent in my mid-twenties, when I was convinced that I was invincible, I was a head turner and I could achieve anything in life.


Now I look at the items, my life has changed so much. I don’t go on dates anymore, my dancing nights have become rare and are occasional if one of my friends turn 50 or 60, and then I don’t dance like I used to and I have never worn that Kimono, because though very pretty, I still hate myself for ever having gone out with that guy,  just for a couple of cheap trips to Amsterdam (I love the city, though and know the little streets like the back of my hand now!).

Well, here I am now, and realize, the time is over, and I really don’t need those items to remember all the things I have learned and suffered with them. It’s all in my head as long as god allows, and if it’s gone at one point, I’m sure I won’t miss it, because by then I made room for other great new memories I will accumulate in the years, or even only the same moment, if I lose my memories entirely.  So, here I am and I go toss, toss, toss the stuff, and you can now find my pretty little heels on Ebay Kleinanzeigen, if you are interested, wear size 6.5 and love to dance…

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