In my dreams I have a walk in wardrobe.

In my dreams I have a walk in wardrobe and a heated towel rack. Mind you in my dreams I am also rocking a midriff most of the time while swishing my long blonde hair around to the music as I watch my husband Wildman Woog play bass guitar with Sting as Trudie fetches me a gin and tonic.

Back to my dream of having a walk in wardrobe though. It is a dream that I cannot ever see coming to fruition. I would dearly love to get out of the shower, wrap myself up in my hot towel and stand in my walk in wardrobe and shop from my closet. Instead I get out of the shower, wrap myself in a damp towel, walk out of my bedroom, down the hall, yell at the kids to get dressed and into my lady room where the most pathetic 2 door built in greets me and then the door proceeds to come off its runner when I try and open it. Sometimes I cry.

Pathetic hey.

But the situation shits me. But what shits me most is what is inside the cupboards. A collection of clothes that are a nod to the present and past 2 decades and ladies of maturing years. So yesterday I shut myself off in my Lady Room with a big plastic Glad Bag and began a cull. ANYTHING I had not worn in the past 12 months was donated. These included

• A White Seersucker Blazer

• Chiffon IKAT printed tunic which made me look like an exotic walrus.

• 3 pairs of grey tracksuit types pants

• 3 grey tops

• One grey blouse with white cotton lace piping (vom vom)

• Half a dozen old Bonds tops

• A pair of ¾ denim pants

• A brown long sleeve t-shirt covered in sequins

• A matt gold shell top I wore to my engagement party a million years ago

• Some spectacularly nasty brown pants

• A faded navy jacket

Oh and heaps of other shit.

I hope one day my Cabinet Maker Prince will come and sort me out with little compartments and sections and scented candles and piped music and a bar fridge for champers and a chaise lounge to have a little lie down on and look at my walk-in palace, but until then at least there is more space in my faux wood, plastic, cheap piece of shit wardrobe. And I have vowed not to put anything grey in there again. Unless they are Qantas First Class pyjamas, which will be framed.

Look in your closet.
What is the worst you have got?
Perhaps it’s a poncho,
Or a pair of Culottes?
Seriously….. tell me!