Am I A Hoarder?

Am I? Or a collector? A few days ago this exact question came to my mind and has never left since then. Ok, I admit, that I’m exaggerating here a bit, as the situation is not so serious as like I saw in the telly, in the fascinatingly gross show about hoarders. But still, where is the limit, where is that fine line what is still healthy? Is there something wrong with me? Not on a hoarder level, but well, on some level?

I love clothes, shoes and accessories. That’s out of question. Moreover, collecting more similar piece is an older habit of mine. I hate when I have to choose from two great things. I hesitate, making a mental list of pros and cons, going back and forth to make the right decision. It can take forever, but sometimes it won’t be better in the end, because the other thing will hunt me, like a small shard in my brain, that won’t let me ease. So yes, sometimes I buy that other, similar thing too. And then I have two of them. Bang!

I have some Levi’s 501 in different hues and love them all. 🙂

Moreover, since I’ve rediscovered my love for vintage things (I’m looking at you Vetements), it’s getting even worse. You know, when you find something which is perfect in every way, but you don’t have too much time to think about it. It’s usually a never coming back occasion, so you either get it or regret it. And I experienced and hate regrets, so I rather try to live by the motto; don’t feel regret because of doing something, but because of not doing it. I can take it back and ask for a refund anyway. Or I can still learn from my mistake and sell it later. Not that it happens so often… you know, vintage is different.

Also I know, the easiest way would be to avoid these situations at the first place, but then again the shard comes back; what a great piece of clothing am I missing this very moment? But I could’ve buy that too, and now I would be happy and not full with these stupid questions.

And anyway, life is short, I’m young now. When should I enjoy myself if not now? Why on earth would we work for, if not the things which make us happy? Let it be travelling, collecting unicorns or buying (and selling) clothes. Oh, so is it too shallow and way too material? Ok, let it be, I take it. Because it makes me happy in the morning when I can put it on or when I feel nice and confident all day or when I’m writing about it. And it makes me even happier when somebody asks me on the street where did I buy it? Is it still considered as material? No, I don’t think so, but I don’t care anyway :). Most importantly, is it worth the price? Hell yeah! It’s worth every penny. It’s worth ME every penny.

The latest regrets to make? Just kidding… 🙂

You know what I’m realising? That probably it’s not me. The problem is not with me, but with others, who are not capable to mind their own business. They don’t understand, they keep judging, worrying, advising. They know better, they just keep worrying for me. They want the best for me. And my mind has just blown up again. Because I didn’t ask for it, for God’s sake! And I think I’m adult enough to make decision over my spending, how I get dressed in the morning, and oh, over my whole life for that matter. But still, here I am, questioning my own sanity. Because they want the best for me…

We have this saying in Hungary; The path that leads to hell is made of good intentions. It couldn’t be more true I guess. Because when they question me, they question my ability of sober judgement. And that’s bad, really bad. Especially if you don’t ask for it.

And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that the truth hurts, or I don’t wan’t to admit that I lost the balance. I didn’t loose anything. Actually I’m more obsessed with this balance and decluttering question than anybody else. I’m fully aware that I don’t need 10-15 pairs of jeans or 20 pairs of shoes for living and I also know that I don’t need to buy the next one.

But I’m not gonna stop. Why? Because collecting (and selling) clothes and getting dressed is not just a normal need of mine anymore. Actually it means the world to me; my job, my armour, my hobby, my life, my passion. And if somebody keeps judging over me, I feel bad, questioning myself about it, meanwhile a most important question is arising in the shadows; if I stop doing it, what will remain that I can obligate myself with, that I can be happy about? I mean, besides my personal life? You know, what you’re doing because you love doing it and not because you have/must/need to do.

My vintage collection keeps growing.

So arriving back to the main question. I am NOT a hoarder, and I’m NOT insane NOR irresponsible. I’m a full responsible adult, who is able to make her own decision about anything. A responsible person who happens to love fashion and getting dressed, and yes, probably spend a bit more than the average. But I know my limits and capable to stop if I feel to. Because I’m the master of my own life, thanks for asking.

Take care,

Xo Andi

PS: Do you have these annoying well-whisers too?