I am selling my home. I just know that the anonymous buyers who will soon be parading through my bedroom will think that a peep at my clothes closet is fair game. Being a congenitally poor closet organizer, I decided that the best thing to do was to just strip the thing pretty bare before the parade started to pass by.

The Continued Stay Review on the nurse gear stockpile in that closet was tough.

The Dry Rot Test eliminated some 20+ year old stethoscopes, the lowest-hanging fruit.

The striped polyester uniforms from my student days were harder to let go. They remained on the keeper pile even after they failed the Would You Wear This into a Hospital Today test. Then they failed the Maybe Your Granddaughter Would Like to Get Married in This test, and I got shaky. When they failed the You Will Never be a Size Two Again Test, I desperately sought a way out, but realized that the only thing likely to take me down to a Size Two again was a terminal illness. I let the pantsuits go, but kept the half-dozen hospital gowns I had acquired by nefarious means.

Then there was the stretchy pair of vintage 90s white uniform pants. I gave them a pass on the Size Two Test because of the elastic waist. I reasoned that if I ever had a granddaughter and she wanted a quickie Vegas wedding, the white pants might come in handy. Paired with a scrub top, I reasoned, I could wear them into a hospital today if push came to shove. Read more…