I have a large Op-Shop box in the hall and when I put anything in there, it stays. (unless Miss Lucy Tartan is blogging to Bendigo and would like the 70s dress patterns)
So today I threw in 6 brooches and 12 pairs of earrings. I'm in shock.
I also threw in the recycle bin 4 empty boxes. That was enough, I couldn't throw out the other six.
They were velvet. No-one gets jewellery in velvet boxes these days. It was essential to keep them for historical research.
That was quite a cull of the earring drawer though, a real walk down memory lane. I remember every dress that matched each pair of earrings. OhLaLa was the best shop for costume jewellery and I think I singlehandedly kept it from bankruptcy for years.
I look at the rubbish being sold now and it's not made to last more than one season. It's the reason I won't buy anything unless it's on sale because that's about the true worth of the shoddy glitter. I get home and the first thing I do, is go through and make sure all the connecting rings are connecting and not lying in wait to rip your throat out.
So while I'm remembering this and that dress, I realize that I can't remember what I was wearing on several very important days in my life. Now it's really bugging me and I've made a list of days and I'm trying to put a dress to each one.
The wedding doesn't count, him leaning on my re-embroidered linen trying to look sober is etched forever in my memory circuits. It always amazes me how people get so much detail into an autobiography when I can't remember a dress.