cleaning out my underwear drawer.

can tidiness curb consumerism?

This week, as you might have guessed, I cleaned out my dresser drawers. More accurately, I cleaned out just the one drawer, the worst of them, because it took me twice as long as I expected to get through it and because I lost the ability to justify spending another minute refolding my already folded clothes while listening to Witch.

My underwear drawer is the place where, predictably, I store my underwear, and bras, and socks. It’s also the place where I stash my travel case of makeup and face potions, my small collection of silk bandanas, a leather pouch of special coins collected in childhood, a cloth pouch of lesser-worn necklaces, and an assortment of already deposited checks and letters from the NY State Tax Department waiting out their terms of required safekeeping.

I’m a generally quite tidy person, but this particular drawer is my achilles heel.