The other day I was looking through my closet for a shirt to wear. I have my clothes hung up in order of colors, from dark to light. It starts with black, to gray, to blue, etc., and ends with white.
As I’m going through the shirts, it dawns on me that I only have one black casual shirt, and for some reason, it made me reflect.
I look for a shirt to wear every single day. I know every shirt that I have hanging up in my closet. There are probably 50 or so shirts in there. I don’t know why today was different. I don’t know why I started thinking about my old wardrobe. I just did.
15 years ago, literally all of my shirts were black, white, or gray, but mostly black. I liked the way black looked on me, plus, everyone said that black is “slimming.”
When I met my husband, he hated that all I wore was black. Slowly but surely, he bought me shirts that were colorful. He especially liked pink. Knowing that he liked to see me in more colorful clothing, I started changing my wardrobe. Now my closet is full of color. I rarely wear black anymore.
It’s funny how things change.