Since this is my time of year to reflect on many aspects of my life and my wardrobe, I did a more granular (and accurate) count of on the weekend of my wardrobe retirements over a period of years. If the numbers bore you, feel free to ignore or jump to my conclusions at the bottom. Writing this down as information for those who have an interest in this topic.

Excluding footwear, handbags, gear, basics, PJs, I have retired/ recycled/ donated/ disposed of 120 clothing items between 2019-2024, for an average of 20 a year. The actual number differed quite a lot, year to year.

47 of those items (or about 40%) were worn out, by which I mean they had irreparable holes/ wear pattern on the fabric, irreparable stains/ marks, or they had lost their shape. These items were mostly denim, tops (especially summer tops), and certain knits -- some of which were simply poorly made to begin with, and some of which had seen such hard wear over a period of years that it was a wonder they were not complete rags.

Looking at that figure, I'm awed by those who say they never wear out their clothes. I am blessed with quite a large wardrobe. I wash in cold water delicate cycle, air dry almost everything, mend, block knits, etc. In other words, I care for my clothes. But a significant portion do wear out. Not in one year, or two. But over a period ranging from 3-6 years.

Many of these items were past donation, although I did donate a lot of the denim anyway, because it might be recyclable in some way, or someone might cut off the jeans for shorts. (I do that myself with some but not all of my denim because my need for denim shorts is minimal.)

17 items left my closet due to fit issues. Most of these were jeans and some trousers that no longer fit after weight changes. But some were items that simply didn't fit as well after laundering or whose fit ended up bothering me in some way. These, I donated.

I said goodbye to a further 18 moderately to heavily worn items that were not worn out, yet had lost their interest or value for me, personally. The least frequently worn of these would have had around 20 wears over four or five years; the most frequently worn would have had more than 100 wears. But they were still in usable conditions, and I'm pretty sure someone else would enjoy them. This includes mostly coats, blazers, and jackets.

Finally, there were 20 items that I'd never worn a lot and I knew I wouldn't wear in the future. About a third of these were older occasion wear. The rest were what we'd call "experiments" or "shopping mistakes," depending on our attitude and frame of mind, i.e. they were items I tried, but didn't end up liking, and therefore didn't wear more than a few times.

I also wore through a lot of footwear during this period. With the walking I do, I actually wear out most of my non-occasion wear footwear and need to replace/ upgrade frequently. This should almost be a healthcare cost for me!

Conclusions: I feel quite encouraged by this analysis. To begin with, the worn out clothes were mostly older (had been in my closet between 3-10 years and/or were bought second hand to begin with). Fit issues are fit issues -- we can't entirely control for body changes and it's useless to hang on to uncomfortable clothing. The proportion of "fails" is not that high and I am fairly quick to weed those out -- letting them go while they are still current enough to have possible value to another wearer.

Taking this long view, for me, has been quite informative and has emphasized the value of frequent and thorough closet evaluations and edits.

I don't care for the word "churn." I think it implies a level of carelessness and thoughtlessness that doesn't apply to people in this community, most of whom try to buy carefully in whatever ways we can and aim to care for our clothes so they last.

So along with my other edits, I'm editing that term out of my fashion vocabulary, at least as far as my own closet management is concerned. I'm also letting go of any guilt about my purchasing or editing habits. I'm doing the best I can, balancing careful husbandry with spontaneity and fun. Which means no fashion resolutions for me this year. I'm joining Helena in the "year of no fashion goals."

How about you?