Help! My closet is eating me!

Not only am I dreaming about beautifully decorated closets but much more, I dream about well-organised, spacious and neverending ones.

The following lines are a desperate attempt for Tinkerbelle, Santa Clause or Aladdin’s Genie to read it and find me in order to donate an extra, neverending room with as much space as I “need” to let my clothes and nerves survive.

(You can do as much #firstworldproblems in your heads as you want to – to me, this is a daily first-hand experience  and yes, I do care about this insanity of mine).

Diagnosis? No-space-itis. That’s how you can possibly define every second girl’s problem when it comes to (re-)organizing clothes and accessories. Especially if you’re moving, which I was constantly doing for the past four years.

And every time it’s the same old problem: Where has all the space for one of my top priorities in my living space, my clothes, gone? Sometimes (okay, always), it’s not too hard – there’s simply no.

But then again, after looking how much space I currently got in my London place in comparison to what I was literally forced to fight with previously in this city, I really wonder what the actual problem is (because it’s surely not that I’ve got too much clothes; never would I assume such an absurd thing).

Last year, I did the greatest compromise and told my ex-flatmates to take the smallest room. (Can you please just sit there for a moment and simply appreciate & salute me silently for my selflessness?). Just for the peace’s sake. And I would like to underline that I still feel like a proper saint for doing so as I was surely in biggest need of every teeny tiny space for my stuff.

(Oh, and have I mentioned that I’m a single child and could have also fulfilled the so-not-true cliché of a real egoist?!)

The year before, I was facing a similar problem with only one super small cupboard and an extra rail rack to hang jackets, fur vests and everything else which seemed to not fit into that small cupboard any longer. And only God knows how I managed to accept this with countenance.

Now I firstly got the chance to transform the guest bedroom into a walk-in closet but then was convinced (and slightly forced again) to leave it as the guest bedroom instead of bringing the chaos back to the walk-in-closet-life I was used to when living with the parents.

I only agreed on this because I thought that there’s still enough space to stock all of my stuff into the huge built-in-wall closets and hidden-away cupboards. How wrong I was.

There’s still not enough space for me and my stuff and I finally get the creepy feeling that there’s possibly something wrong with me. It’s not about organizing my clothes from colour shade to colour shade or material to material or any other crazy categories many of my friends are using to bring some structure into the clothing-life.

(Sorry you guys but this is something I’d only do on a day where there’s so much time that I had the opportunity to choose between wasting my time with something like that or killing myself).

It’s bascially about the hysterical state I fall into whenever I see one piece not hanging or laying in the way I wanted it to be or, even worse, if I can’t find it (it rarely happens) or, the worst, I have to leave it at my parents’ because there’s simply no tiny place to put it in.

Clothes have to breathe. They have to have their own space. They were basically bought to be looked at with happiness. Not with a disgusted face that clearly says “I don’t actually care anymore”.

Not that I’m not having a certain order and organisation but sometimes I get the feeling that I simply can’t distinguish anymore.

What is important to me? What is not? Will I miss this piece if I threw it away? Will I forget it the moment it has been removed?

All of these questions make me sick in a second and I therefore speak for bigger closets, more rooms and no eschewal of clothes! Who the hell needs a typically London “nursery” room? Give us a properly built closet room with a well thought-of room layout.

(Seriously, that’s ALL I’m asking from the few talented architects living and practicing in this city… how can this crazy demand be seen as utopian?! ;))

I don’t need therapy or a closet maid who tells me what I should throw away or not (very popular in London! No jokes!)… I need an extra set of nerves and another job to afford an additional annexe to this place I’m currently living in.

If I can’t re-work the guest room as my walk-in closet, then build me an additional room to solve my first world problem!

Enough with the writing and whining, there you go with some of the most beautiful closets I found while browsing around.

Spacious, organized and not a single sign of compromise. That’s how I like it. And one day, when I’m a big girl, I’m going to have one built by a clever person, payed by my own money, not advised by any other person than the architect who’s going to have the biggest challenge ever: Building the closet that suits me best.

And just in case you were wondering how I kept on arguing and finding a compromise for the past months…this is very close:

http://youtu.be/XiV_HcNTL-Q

picture credit: All pictures can be found on my Pinterest boards.