What Your Closet Says About Your Dating Life

This is a story about a dysfunctional relationship. It was between me and my bedroom closet, and I know you know what I’m talking about.

The closet was full and I was empty. Every time I opened the door, I encountered someone I no longer cared about, an outgrown, repetitive personality. Like most of us, I had the requisite work stuff in there, which fell into the category of more (summer wool suit) or less (brocade sheath) mandatory and was therefore defensible in some way. But the play clothes, the rows and piles of stuff that I relied on to reflect my true self-image, were just dead wrong. Minimalist, hard-edged, and appropriate mingled awkwardly with colors and patterns from sprees of unquiet desperation. And for every piece that was wrong, I seemed to have three more just like it (think gray cardigans) embalmed in dry-cleaner plastic. Read more ...

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