A small cabinet next to my bed full of notebooks and diaries. A bag full of hats, a bag full of tights, two small suitcases of bags.
A chest of drawers with pyjamas and bikinis in top drawer, followed by one with tops, then shorts and skirts and then finally trousers and leggings.
A wardrobe with maxi dresses, to midi dresses, to dresses going from red to purple, with all gradient shades at the end. Then there's jumpsuits, when I have enough hangers I'll put in my long vest tops, tops with sleeves and shirts. The long cardigans and light jackets filter in at the end.
Jumpers and cardigans are folded up beneath the dresses, then high heeled shoes next to them.
A suitcase full of sentimental shit I just can't put anywhere; full of boxes for gifts which are on display, a glass from my 18th birthday, a dvd player box full of loose bits of tat all revolved around my ex boyfriend Pat, newspapers I don't want to get rid of, and magazines I am yet to browse. Folders full of letters from friends at school and my sister's artwork.
Do you think that I have a whole box full of every single card I've received since the age of 11? Of course I have. Christmas, birthday, leaving, Valentine's, you name it, I'm still holding onto it.
Really nice to look through sometimes...fucking hell.
Prefered the house without all the shit in it. Oh, and I've had to spread my vast amount of clothing to downstairs. There's four nice hooks by the front door almost coming out of the plaster with all my scarves, coats and jackets on it. With a nice double tiered shoe rack underneath for all my boots and flats. No room at all for my housemate, bet he loves it. I'm sure he'll complain when he opens the front door to the mustiness of the coats I never wear.
All these outfits, and I work full time where I have to wear a uniform.
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