We all have our addictions. It might be chocolate or mahjong, gardening or competitive baking, bargain hunting at church fairs or playing word games in bars. I am so addicted to the acquisition and wearing of clothes and accessories that I’m just one Hermes scarf shy of needing to attend Clothes Collectors Anonymous. The great thing about being older, however, is that I have learned to downsize and exert some curatorial judgment over my collection. Otherwise, I could become one of those reality TV show people: “Women Who Won’t Give Up Any of the Clothes They Ever Bought and Now Sleep On Top of a 1968 Burnt Orange Velour Jacket, Vest, and…Hot Pants.”

I organize my closets twice a year, once during the early spring and again in the fall, replacing the items of the past season with those for the next. Early September is the time for the return of clothes and accessories of substance. This year I removed the spring and summer clothes, leaving behind only those wonderful things that will take me through the warm days of September but don’t whisper slyly, “Doesn’t she know she shouldn’t wear that after Labor Day?”

I use these twice-yearly closet organizing sessions to examine each article of clothing to see if it has any life left in it, to assess if it’s been worn in the last two years, and to ask some brutal questions. This year the question was, “Do I look good in this fun cotton summer skirt that is four inches above the knees?” I had six such skirts that I had not worn at all this season. That was a clue. I tried on each one and asked the mirror, which did not say that if I wore these short skirts I would be the fairest of them all, so I gave them away. I will still wear short skirts with black tights and flat shoes in the fall and winter because this is a flattering look for my figure. But the knee cellulite revealed by short summer skirts is just not my idea of attractive…for me.

Once I had gone through my summer wardrobe, I turned to my fall and winter garments. I evaluated each piece carefully and wound up parting with two pairs of pants and one outdated Akris suit in navy that I had bought in an emergency but was never quite right. (The jacket was always an unflattering length and now seemed even more so. I disappeared in it: It wore me!) What remained was steamed and hung on my new matching hangers. My apartment has two closet systems designed by Shari Markbreiter (who has shared with us her magnificent transformation of her own bedroom) to support my addiction to clothes, shoes, hats, purses, gloves, fans, and this year, parasols. They allow me to find everything! There are places for blouses of the same color, sweaters of the same shade, skirts go together, suits hang with their coordinating blouse or top under the jacket, and there are two large areas for longer pants and dresses.

I put the summer shoes in Shari’s clear plastic stackable boxes that allow me to see what’s inside, and transferred them to the upstairs closets, with the fall and winter shoes. Summer clutches and handbags were stuffed so they would keep their shape and placed into cloth bags to keep them safe, then replaced with the fall and winter handbags. Capes that are wonderful for fall when a coat is too much and a sweater too little were found, steamed, and hung in the coat closet along with a magical Prada coat that, with its mossy green and brown plaid fabric and its wonderful portrait neckline, is good for spring and fall. Such beautiful fabric, such incredible design. Each year when I find it I am as thrilled as I was the day I received it as a present.

I wonder if I am the only woman who feels as if she is shopping in her closet as she sorts through her off-season clothes? I consciously greet many of the outfits for the new season as old friends with whom I have had some great times. Last year I took a day off from work and, with two girlfriends, visited Julianne’s, a charming boutique in Port Washington, NY, that’s owned by Julieann Orso. We arrived as winter clothes were on sale and the shop was full of resort wear. It was one of those days where everything I tried on was just the right fit and available at a discount. I bought the most exquisite black glove leather skirt that is full and gored, a Calvin Klein gray shantung dress with an architectural element in the back that not many women would wear but was perfect for the drama queen, a black wool dinner dress with incredible details, and a stretchy knitted-fur cowl accessory that dresses up many of my simple winter frocks. When I found them again, I remembered the road trip to Juliann’s and how much fun I had with my friends doing something that was so out of character for me. I will never wear these clothes without the memories of that day.

It took me, with assistance, four hours to make my closets easy to navigate. At the end of the afternoon, I knew that I was organized for the New Year, which for me begins in September. After all the work, I had that cozy feeling that I have everything I need to start school again: pencil box, erasers, crayons, ruler, note books, magic markers, and many new books to read. Why isn’t September everyone’s favourite month?