Closet Case

Spring cleaning for shoppers

I have a lightly controversial, later in life realization: I think SPRING is the best season. I was a lifelong “fall is the best” gal, like so many of us who look best in layers and snack on a crunchy honeycrisp apple. But fall got swallowed by the basic/Christian girl autumn/too online world and enjoying October has become kind of insufferable. The things that make fall great are still real, but a few years ago (perhaps with the help of our lockdown lifestyles), I realized spring is actually the best season, and for many of the reasons fall rules and then some.

Spring actually rules because while it’s a transition like fall, it’s a transition to a slightly more fun season with beach trips and frozen drinks. Spring weather is great. I can wear my favorite combo of jeans, a light sweater, and boat shoes and I’m perfectly comfortable. Despite my allergies, it’s great to go outside and see green leaves and flowers for the first time in months. The tree behind my apartment gets full (and also thankfully obscures my terrace and living room from the neighbors across the way seeing everything. But the biggest reason I love spring is it’s the season of cleaning and throwing things away, two of my absolute favorite things.

When I say cleaning I don’t mean scrubbing my bathroom sink or mopping, I mean cleaning OUT closets and drawers and shelves. I love throwing shit away. Growing up, our house wasn’t necessarily minimalist, but it was very organized and my mom doesn’t really tolerate a lot of clutter. My apartment is the same, really. There are some lightly chaotic spaces (my open shelving where I keep spices and oils and other food aren’t exactly chic) and some piles of paper (you guessed it, mail), but for the most part everything has a place and there is plenty of room for your eye and brain to rest when scanning my and Rizz’s tiny kingdom.

The place that most easily gets out of hand, however, is my closet. I keep the kitchen and bathroom pretty controlled. But my bedroom is another story. Compared to old me, my current clothing situation is an organized, efficient dream, but that’s only because I’ve gone through several emotional journeys with my closet, including both the contents and the closet itself.

I used to have a shopping problem. Well, not a problem, really, I was good at it. In my twenties when I was searching for an identity and walking by my beloved Loehmann’s every day, I accumulated a small amount of debt and a tiny closet full of designer clothing. You can read all about that in my BOOK which you can pre-order so it arrives at your door on its pub date, 7/7/2026! Anyway, I spent a long time buying all kinds of different clothes: Helmut Lang trousers for work, D&G cocktail dresses and colorful See by Chloe skirts, tight and rigid dark blue Habitual jeans and white slub cotton James Perse t-shirts that ended up slightly indigo at the hem thanks to the denim. My closet, like my entire sense of self, had zero direction. It was fun, but it was all over the place.

For many years I had what felt like a full closet but nothing to wear. Sure, if I needed to go to a corporate office one day and a nightclub the next and a garden party the next and a casual brunch after that, I had something for each of those. But I didn’t have a big inventory of what I wanted to wear because I truly didn’t even know what I wanted to wear.

Then, my studio apartment in Harlem got sold and I had to move, so I did the most insane thing I could think of and I moved to Los Angeles. With no residence I was going to or plan at all, it led me to purge most of my stuff. I sent a few boxes and bags with my parents before I left so they could store things. I probably didn’t need winter coats for a year, but it didn’t mean I never would. I pared my clothing down to just the basics and a few wild cards and moved to LA with like, one suitcase and stayed for a year. Unfortunately, this is the same year I learned about The Real Real, so I kind of undid all of the purging in a matter of months.

Rizz prefers the safety of the hall closet.

For years thanks to Loehmann’s and The Real Real and actual sample sales, I accumulated a lot of things I wore once. When you see a $900 Michael Kors Collection silk top for less than the price of jeans from Gap, it’s hard not to just buy that and assume you’ll become the kind of woman who wears that, even if the large chocolate brown satin bow at the neck is the opposite of your vibe. To be fair, I also went “out” more to places where I could experiment with wearing something nicer/dressier/more insane when I was younger. I still go out all the time, but usually to sit at my neighborhood dive bars after Union Hall shows, two locations where a “look” doesn’t really belong.

When I moved back from LA I bounced around sublets for almost two years thanks to my credit tanking after my first identity theft. By the time I finally settled into my little apartment above Atlantic Ave, I had streamlined my wardrobe. Thank god I did, that closet was the quintessential tiny New York closet and there was barely room for a lean wardrobe, let alone the chaotic one of my twenties and early thirties.

My clothing collection has grown since then, but I’ve managed to keep it in check despite having two massive closets in my bedroom currently where everything has a place and there’s room to spare. One or two times a year I do a massive cull and pull out everything from all of the shelving and hangers and take a serious evaluation of what needs to go. It’s always satisfying to do this. It’s not even like I have bags and bags of clothing. In fact, the last few times it’s been like one large bag of stuff to toss, including some shoes and a purse or two.

The best part about this clean-out isn’t the extra space or the freshly folded stacks of shirts. It’s that whenever I finish, I call Audrey. Then we plan a night where I pour us glasses of white wine and shots of tequila and put out two small bowls of spicy Bjorn Quorn and Union Market half sour pickles that we both completely ignore to drink. Then we put on music (depending on the mood, either a Fiona Apple album or a 90s country mix where we shock ourselves with how many words to Garth Brooks songs we both know) and she tries on all the clothes I’m culling. She usually walks off with 80% of what I had pulled to keep or give to her sister.

It’s not like “here, take this crap!” but it’s usually things that I have bought repeats of and found I end up wearing the repeat more. Sometimes it’s pants I need to get honest about fitting. Occasionally it’s a deeply discounted designer item I bought years ago and has remained untouched since the 2018 and I need to get real about if I’m ever going to reach for it. And Audrey and I like the same styles and are close enough in size that it usually ends up really working out for her. Then I usually just have a small pile of old t-shirts I need to toss. Win win.

My major closet clean outs in the last few years have been less of an event because my closet is less of a disaster. My intense shopping addiction has waned in recent years thanks to a combination of things. For starters, the insane deals of the Loehmann’s era or the designer discount shopping are long gone. Actual sample sales are mostly a thing of the past for the general public. Sure the second hand market has put a dent in my finances, but not nearly in the way the earlier aughts sales did. Also, I just wear less variety of clothing and thus buy less variety of clothing. I don’t have an office job, my going “out” is either industry events or a nice dinner here and there, but mostly, again, sitting at neighborhood bars in the same jeans and t-shirts I did stand-up in an hour earlier. And I haven’t been shopping nearly as much just because I don’t have the steady income I did a few years ago, and nothing makes shopping harder than not having money to shop.

The biggest reason my closet clean outs aren’t such a mess is after 42 years on this earth and in this body, I have a really good sense of what I’ll actually wear and what I actually need. Past me would take a lot of chances on clingy dresses or trendy cuts of pants. I’d buy silk camisoles with no plan for what bra to wear, or a mini skirt despite the fact that I haven’t worn a skirt or anything showing my legs in years aside from my Agolde jean shorts. These days, if my closet is overflowing, it’s with a lot of the same jeans and almost identical looking cashmere crewneck sweaters.

I know what colors I like.

Part of how I’ve been able to pare down is being a bit of a uniform dresser. While I admire literally every single thing about Fran Lebowitz, the best aspect of her life is her commitment to a singular outfit every time she leaves the house. I’m not SO strict in my look, but the odds are if you see me out in the wild I’m wearing some version of jeans and a t-shirt or crewneck cashmere sweater. Occasionally I’ll wear a cardigan as a shirt, or throw on a button down. But that’s kind of the extent, aside from premieres and fancy dinners where I basically end up in just a non-denim version of the same look.

I hate that we get photographed everywhere now. Every show I’m on has a dedicated photographer. Group hangs delightfully involve pictures which are great to have but sometimes annoying when they all end up on the internet for the Instagram public to see. The silver lining of the constant photographic surveillance in this era of culture is you get a lot of images of yourself to evaluate. I mean, that’s a terrible thing. But when it comes to clothes, it’s kind of helpful. I know what looks good on me. I can tell which things I reach for more often. There are literally dozens of photos of me in a navy cashmere sweater from Equipment over a white Jungmaven t-shirt and vintage Levi’s and white Reeboks. I have other navy sweaters, but I can tell I choose that one the most. I have lots of jeans, but it seems like I opt for one specific pair more than the others. It’s helpful to see all of that and when you’re shopping be like okay, no need to think about this neon yellow tank top, I can’t imagine myself ever choosing it.

Now each season I keep a little list in my email drafts of clothing items I know I would reach for (or are replacements for slightly threadbare versions already in my closet). It’s not a prescriptive list of “MUST BUYS” but it is a little list to remind me that these are things I have thought about and should look for and will actively wear if I can find them. This is my current list":
-New white and off-white Jungmaven hemp t-shirt (old white one, well, getting old)
-Medium/dark blue jeans, either vintage Levi’s or Agolde
-Light blue or blue/white striped loose oxford (men’s vintage?)
-Cream vintage Lacoste v-neck sweater (the only non-cashmere, acrylic sweater I ever buy)
-Navy nylon shorts (check lifeguard companies)
-Replace rubber Birks (army green)

Having that little list in my back pocket (literally bc it’s on my phone and that’s always in my pocket) is super helpful to keep me on track when I’m out shopping around. Sure the right dress or silk top might present itself at the right price, but otherwise, I can stick to the list.

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And every week until July 7, a reminder to pre-order my debut book of essays, I’m A Lot wherever you get your books!