Shop the Collection

Now, I am a little bit deranged by General Society's standards. Particularly when you factor in the beard and, y'know, the whole "apparently male" thing. One of the ways in which my paticular derangement manifests itself is an absolute commitment (now exceeding thirty years in length) to the packrat lifestyle in everything to do with shoes, accessories and clothes. It doesn't matter whether I need it this year - it matters whether I might ever conceivably need it for any occasion, including those occasions I have never even been able to imagine myself ever experiencing.

Although, when you take a look at how my life has actually gone, that philosophy makes more sense than you might think. Not many of us have to plan outfits for "my own renaming ceremony". (A plain white basic robe which I handmade myself, since you ask.)

Anyway. History of my overcomplicated identity aside, this year I want to make a project of downsizing my STUFF, because it's getting to the point where it's just not fun to have it. And that's going to mean finding some new ways to think about what I own. Today, that project is touching on jewellery. 

Jewellery's not a storage problem, right? It's so tiny! It's so cute! It's so cheap, if you go round the charity shops!

And this is how you end up with a 30-year-packrat-scale earring habit. Despite the beard and the whole apparently male thing. Most of my dragon's hoard (very little of which is real gold, alas) was languishing in a selection of more or less attractive storage boxes, and I felt somehow dissatisfied with the fact that I had all these gorgeous shinies to choose from, but couldn't engage with and enjoy them as they deserved.

So I bought some little metal stands - the kind you see used as countertop displays in shops. Yes, I'll have to clean the sterling silver ones more often if they're not sealed up all tight and oxygen-free. But this way, if I want some jewellery to bling up an outfit I don't have to furkle in boxes muttering vague imprecations about my own lack of organisation. I can browse my own marvellous collection: a world of colour and texture right at my fingertips. (And bling. Don't forget the bling.) I can compare. I can contrast. I can marvel at my own wisdom and excellent taste; any fashionista would be proud! 

And best of all, I can select the perfect item for whatever nuance I want to add to the message I'm trying to send. 

The thing fashionistas know about clothes that "if I'm not naked it's perfect" people don't is that clothing and appearance are a language. And I pride myself on knowing how to communicate. In detail. With bling.

I also feel I should mention at this point that one of the other gender-fabulous people I know locally has an entire room dedicated as a walk-in wardrobe. #lifegoal identified...

Pictured: a pair of sterling silver earrings set with garnet and marcasite which graced many a goth club back in the day. I've had them since studenthood in my previous life; I definitely remember wearing them in 1997, but I couldn't tell you where I bought them if I tried. The whole Victorian trend really seems to have disappeared from all the places I used to hoover up my pretty silver things.