And we did a little less consulting than we hoped (but not none; Genny does have some great advice), but a ton of organizing. I wished at the end we'd done before-and-after pics. Instead, I did this amazing series of after-and-after-and-after:
This is my closet after we were done. The picture is small and it's blurry, so maybe you can't tell that it's a total miracle, but it is. Over all the way to the left? Shirts, sorted by sleeve length. Then cardigan sweaters, roughly ditto. Then pants, skirts, dresses, jackets, suits... and they all fit. Every single garment in that closet, I can take out, put on, and have it look nice on me.
This is the bed in my guest room after we were done. I am not sure you get a great sense of the magnitude of this pile, but it is a twin bed entirely covered and stacked high with clothes I won't wear. Some don't fit, some aren't my style, some just have bad energy (scoff all you want, if I'm not wearing it, there's no reason for keeping it). It will all find its way to consignment stores or worthy charitable causes. This does not include the smaller but not insignificant pile of stuff I just threw in the trash.
This is perhaps the least recognizable picture of the three. It's my bedroom floor after we were done. It looks that way all over. Some of my readers have known me since I was a child, and they will agree: This has never, ever happened before. Ever.
Also: This is, so far, both totally sustainable and crazy time-saving. For more than a week, I have been meticulous about my clothes. And that appears to be contagious; the whole house is generally semi-tidy — and has been for a week.
Who the hell am I?