Hand-Me-Overs and More..

omething weird happened in the second half of last year...
[Ed: Madam is repeating herself.]
I'm what?
[Ed: This is exactly how you started the previous post.]
Nothing wrong with that; if anything, it’s got weirder since then!
[Ed: True. Please note, dear reader, that the difference compared to the last CTM (Clothes Transfer Manoeuvre) in the previous post, ‘Hand-Me-Downs’, is that the items are no longer worn clothes making way for new; rather, they are brand-new clothes of the wrong size which have found their way into Madam’s—I beg your pardon—into ‘Sir’s’ wardrobe, instead of being sent back.]
Thank you for that, whatever it was. Now, go and put the kettle on.

The Nightie
As recorded in the previous post, Mrs. A was again browsing her favourite online clothes shopping sites looking for a nightie and had picked out one in an EU 52/54 (UK 24/26) that was on sale.
She asked my opinion and I said it looked good—just right for this hot weather—adding that it looked more like a summer dress than a nightie. She agreed and remarked that she would probably wear it as one if it fitted. As she wasn’t sure of the size, she measured her hips; the result was at the upper limit for a size 54. She was indecisive about whether to buy it or not.

I jokingly said: "Order it, and if it doesn’t fit, I’ll try it on. If that doesn’t work, you can then send it back."
In the back of my mind, I had a feeling there was a chance I could get it on, as 54 is my minimum women's size and, as it was a ‘nightshirt’ style, it should be a little oversized to be comfortable in bed.
Normally, I wouldn’t be so bold as to say anything about trying on her clothes, but following the experience in my previous post, ‘Hand-me-downs’, I felt braver.
I thought she would laugh off my proposal, but instead, she came over and started measuring my hips!
In good humour, she said: "It looks like it could fit you, so if I have problems with it, you will get the chance to try it on—and if it fits, you can also wear it in bed."
The order went out and was scheduled to be delivered on the following Monday.

Mondays are not a good day for having to open the front door, as I usually spend the morning—while Mrs A is at her theatre group—in a dress and heels. It is never a good idea to have the doorbell ring then...

As we have to wait for Monday, here is a little anecdote regarding the bell ringing while I am dressed. If I know there is a delivery scheduled for a Monday, I don’t dress fully, apart from slipping into a pair of heels while in the cellar. Sometimes I will play the piano and try to emulate Yuja Wang. Not her playing, of course, but how she masters the pedals in her very high Louboutin heels. I’ve tried it in my black patent six-inch heels with no platforms (see my heel galley) and I find it impossible to press the pedals effectively! In lower heels, it is a lovely feeling while playing.

Were was I? Oh yes.
It was a Monday with no parcels scheduled for the week, so there was a good chance nothing would arrive or come early.
I was wearing a dress, cardigan, and heels, and was taking a few pictures before starting a session at the piano.
And, as you probably have guessed,
the doorbell rang.

I’ve never swapped a dress and heels for joggers and a T-shirt so fast! I shouted ‘Coming!’ as I ran up the stairs and, with bravado, opened the front door. The postman was a little taken aback but quickly recovered and handed me a parcel. It turned out to be a belated birthday present from a relative for Mrs. A. I closed the door and breathed again! On returning to the cellar, I found the clothes I had been wearing strewn across the floor.

Well, Monday arrived. Just before I was going to take Mrs. A to her theatre session, the doorbell rang and I saw the DHL man walking back to his van. I was relieved; the one and only delivery scheduled for the day had arrived and we were at home.
I opened the door to find the package with the nightie on the doorstep. We had enough time to open it, and Mrs. A tried it on over her clothes; it fitted quite well.
I was a little 'disappointed', and it must have shown. On removing it, she started laughing and handed it to me. "Go on, try it on! If it fits, we can both wear it!"
Well, I had no problem with the fit and, by default, I suppose it now belongs to both of us!

After I got back, I tried it on again without day-clothes underneath. It felt quite cool and smooth, unlike normal jersey material. I could get used to wearing it around the house in hot weather, though I suspect Mrs. A will have priority. If I do get a chance to wear it, it will probably be in bed rather than around the house; I shall just have to see what happens.
[Ed: The blue nails are with the compliments of ♊️—or do you think she wears them like this all day?]
Of course they don’t think that! It’s not as if I wouldn’t like them so, although a little shorter would be more practical. I tried to match the colour with one of the shades from the nightie.

That was over a month ago, and she has been the only wearer of the nightie up to now. This is a shame, but at least I know she is not against me wearing it if I get the opportunity.
This revelation alone is a step in the right direction, and I am happy with this knowledge even if I probably won't have the chance to put it into practice. Of course, I shall have to encourage her to buy another one in a different style; this would allow me to pick the one not in use.

The Summer Dress
In September last year, Mrs. A was again in her ‘Buy Clothes Mode’ (BCM). She ordered a few things for herself and, so she didn’t have a guilty conscience, something for me: some new briefs. I at least had a say in the matter; they had to be fly-less and in any colour other than boring white.
I hinted that I would rather have a selection of panties in different colours, which earned me a rather funny look and the remark that she wouldn't be able to wash them at high temperatures.
I dropped the subject. For the briefs, the only colours available other than black were light and dark blue, so I ended up with three of each. I wanted them fly-less, as a fly plays havoc when one is using panty liners.
So, that is enough about flies. What I have just realised is that she wasn’t against me wearing colourful panties per se...

The mail-order went out and a few days later the package arrived.
Mrs. A unpacked everything and handed me my briefs. She had also ordered some underwear for herself and a cheap summer dress for wearing around the house in the hot weather. She tried the dress on and was disappointed to find it was far too big for her and would have to go back.
I, being a little more adventurous since the nightie incident, let loose my magic mantra—"It would probably fit me"—and waited for a funny look followed by a laugh. I didn’t expect anything would come of it, as this was a proper summer dress and not a piece of patterned cloth to be worn in the dark.

I was gobsmacked when she took it off and handed it to me.
With a smile on her face, she said: "OK, try it on!"
I immediately removed my T-shirt, slipped the dress over my head and let it fall. I adjusted it slightly, smoothed it down and turned towards her.
She looked a little surprised and, without laughing, said: "It fits! You could use it as a nightie. Or, if you like, wear it around the house. In this weather, it would be breezy around your stockinged legs."

This was far too much information to take in at once. I was on another plane, trying to absorb what this meant and where it might lead, my mind racing in all directions.
Then I heard myself say, trying not to sound too excited, "OK, I’ll wear it."
"Good," she said, "then we don’t have to send it back."
And so, it ended up in the wash basket.
A few days later, now washed and neatly folded, it was ‘officially’ handed over to be stored with my stock of hand-me-downs.
Of course, at the next opportunity I had alone, I tried it on with heels.

So, this is another milestone: the first was when she bought me my first pair of heels, and now, indirectly, my first official ‘for home use only’ dress!
I must say, the whole thing is so surreal; I now have a summer dress that I don’t have to stash away in the cellar, but can wear openly whenever I want. I am happier at the moment than I have been for a long time. Of course, what we define as ‘openly’ will have certain restrictions connected with it, but I think it’s a start.
The next step—and this may sound a little crazy—was to ‘force’ myself to wear it, just as I did with the tops I inherited from Mrs. A. Perhaps this reluctance is not so crazy when one think about it. Until now, I have only ever worn my ‘female’ clothes in the confines of the cellar or around the house when alone, never openly.

To break this habit with the new dress will take some effort, but I shall do my best to do so and enjoy the experience of lounging around in a dress when the mood takes me.
The only downside is that I wouldn’t have bought this specific dress for myself. The pattern is ‘all right’, but not something I would have picked. I checked the website where Mrs. A bought it and saw other summer dresses in the same price range made of soft jersey.
Here is a selection of dresses I would rather have. Maybe next time I can coax her into letting me pick ‘her’ next summer dress...

It took some time before I got round to officially wearing the dress. As we had a spell of cold weather at the beginning of this year, Mrs. A suggested I wear it as a nightie in bed, as it covered my shoulders and would be warmer than what I normally wear. Normally, I have no problem with ‘exposed’ shoulders at night, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.
So, I said, as neutrally as possible: "OK, I can give it a try."
That night, after Mrs. A had gone to bed, I retrieved the ‘nightie’ from my ‘official’ stash. I stood there and realised I was unsure of how to proceed. Although I was ‘allowed’—if not encouraged—to wear it, I was, as mentioned before, rather embarrassed by what I was about to do. Instead of putting it on and then walking into the bedroom, I carried it to my side of the bed. I turned my light off, slipped the dress on in the dark, and climbed into bed.
I pulled the dress down over my knees, and the next thing I remember was waking in the middle of the night with my bladder announcing its desire to visit the bathroom. Half-asleep, I realised something was not quite right as I made my way through the dark.
I entered the bathroom, flicked on the light, and was confronted in the mirror by a floral bouquet on a backdrop of blue!
Then, I was fully awake!
The sight and the sensation of the dress caressing my freshly shaven legs as I moved around was something I could certainly get used to. And over the next few nights, I did!
I finally grew accustomed to putting the dress on in the bathroom before bed, as I realised I wasn't getting any funny looks from Mrs. A when I wore it. Sometimes I would read in bed and, one time when she came in and saw me, she smiled and commented on how ‘colourful’ I looked with all the flora on the dress, at which we both laughed.

Some mornings I would wake very early—unable to get back to sleep after one of my ‘walks in the dark’—and go downstairs to sit in my cosy armchair with a cuppa and a book, still in the dress. One morning, Mrs. A came down and, seeing that I had my legs ‘unladylike’ and too far apart, she remarked humorously that it was inappropriate to sit like that in a dress! I replied, also in good humour, that it wasn't a problem when one was alone.
With a flourish and a mock-insulted look, I pulled my legs together, tilted them at a slight angle, and raised my heels as if I were wearing stilettos. I then smoothed down the dress, adjusted the hem over my knees, gave my legs a little wiggle, and offered her a broad smile. She chuckled at this, sat in her own chair, and began to read.
[Ed: How about keeping a pair of your heels handy behind the armchair? When she comments on your legs again, you could whip them out, put them on, and then adjust your pose accordingly?]
That would be amusing, but I’m not quite ready for the chain reaction of explanations that would follow.
[Ed: Will you ever be ready?]
Good point. We shall see how this dress/nightie phase works out, and then we can plan the next level. Something to think about is wearing my stockings and the dress in combination, as she sees me in the stockings all the time anyway.
[Ed: The stockings will have to match, though.]
Therein lies the problem; I only have a dark blue pair, not light blue.
[Ed: If that isn’t an incentive to add to your extensive collection, I don’t know what is!]
Another good point; I shall look into it.
Now, where was I?
I have the impression that she likes me wearing the dress/nightie and finds it rather amusing. I might be reading too much into it, but I think she is pleased to sense that I am happier now that I have broken the barrier and finally started to wear my ‘hand-me-downs’ and my new ‘overs’.
I have become used to wearing the dress/nightie in bed and before getting dressed, but I am not yet comfortable wearing it as a dress around the house. I suspect that after so many decades of wanting to, I may never fully get used to it. I shall have to wait and see how routine it becomes.
I must admit, at this time of year, sitting around in a summer-dress-cum-nightie is a little chilly, but I want to experience wearing it for as long as I tactically can.
I really must persuade Mrs. A to buy me another dress... or perhaps a proper nightie.

The Joggers
Sorry to sound like a broken record, but this time it was November and Mrs. A was again in her BCM. She ordered, among other things, a pair of jogging bottoms (Sweathose in German) and a sweatshirt.

When trying on the joggers, she realised she had ordered the right size but the wrong length. This time, I didn't have a chance to utter my mantra; in her frustration, she simply threw them in my direction with a comment-cum-command: “Should fit you—try them on!”
I removed the joggers I usually wear around the house and started to pull this potential addition to my wardrobe up my stockinged legs. I immediately realised they were a lot smoother than mine and glided up without any resistance.
Why are women's clothes so much more comfortable than men’s? OK, heels are not comfortable for long periods— [Ed: Long!!]—alright, short periods as well, which of course doesn’t stop me wearing them at every opportunity.
As I fastened the cord, I realised they were exactly my size, apart from the length; they were typically shorter than my usual trousers, showing more ankle.
Mrs. A gave her approval with a nod, followed by: “Hope the floral embroidery doesn’t disturb you.”
The what!?

Seeing me staring at her with a blank look, she pointed to my left hip. “There!”
As this is my blind side, I hadn’t seen it while pulling them on. I turned, looked down, and ran my hand over it.
“Nice,” I said. “Not sure I would wear them to the gym, but they're fine for around the house, of course.”
She just looked at me and said: “With a long T-shirt, nobody would notice.”
I wasn't so sure about that, but I let it ride.

At the next opportunity, she ordered a replacement in the correct length. Now we have a ‘matching look’ at home. As for a matching look at the gym—we shall have to wait and see!
I have added here a close-up of the embroidery. It looks quite good; it is a shame that male attire doesn’t feature more ornamentation. Another giveaway that these are women's joggers—aside from the embroidery—is the presence of loops on the left and right so they can be hung up. In the picture, you can see one of them at the top right.
I can understand having loops on dresses, where there is often little in the design to anchor them to a hanger. I have a few evening dresses with ‘safety’ loops, and they are quite necessary; one just has to ensure they are tucked out of sight after putting the dress on. However, I don’t see why they go loop-mad with almost all female wear. Perhaps with an elegant pair of trousers, but joggers!?

The Sweatshirt
And now to the sweatshirt in pigeon/royal blue below. The size on the label was as ordered but, as with the summer dress, it was simply too big for Mrs. A. And, as before, I ended up trying it on; it fitted perfectly and was very comfortable.

She asked if I would like it and, of course, I said yes. It went into the wash and, along with the summer dress, was added to my wardrobe. I’m quite happy with the sea of hearts in different colours, shapes, and sizes.
Since hearts—as well as bows—are typically feminine motifs (likely due to marketing), I don’t think I shall wear it out of the house or when we have visitors. However, around the house, it is no problem at all, and I have worn it quite often over the last few weeks.

What I did notice was that the hem at the front was much lower than at the back. I put it down to having kyphosis and didn’t think much of it until I mentioned it to Mrs. A.
She laughed and said: “It’s not only your back that makes the front longer—it’s because you don’t have a bust!”
Of course! Why didn't I think of that?
It makes sense; as I am usually flat-chested, and most wearers of this sweatshirt have something up front to lift the material, the hem would normally sit at roughly the same height as the back.
[Ed: You will have to measure the front and back to see if there really is a noticeable difference...]
Matter of fact I did. It was 2.4 cm.

Mrs. A giggled and added: “You could try on a bra, fill the cups with apples, and see how the hem goes up!”
She was joking, of course, and I laughed along, but I unfortunately missed the chance to see where the conversation might have gone had I humourously tried to carry-out the ‘experiment’.
It isn't as though I lack experience with bras; I have a colourful collection of my own and certainly wouldn’t need any fruit, as I have professional inserts to fill the cups. I’ll keep this ‘bra-wearing experiment’ in the back of my mind and see if I can subtly bring up the topic again sometime...
[Ed: And while you're in ‘bra mode’, you can check the height of the hem of the sweatshirt and see if the 2.4 cm is correct...]
Good idea!
So, here are my ‘hand-me-overs’: the summer dress and sweat-top on the right, and my joggers on the left. They are now stored safely with my hand-me-downs from the last post.

The Hand - me - 4mes
Well, after wearing the dress as a nightie for some time, it eventually had to go into the wash basket. The next night, I was back in my usual night attire, and I must admit I missed the feeling of it in bed, as well as the sensation of the fabric against my legs. The following morning, I was asked how I had slept and had to admit that I missed ‘my dress-nightie’.

Nothing more was said until we found ourselves after breakfast, in our comfy chairs drinking a second brew and absorbed in our lPads. I was formatting pictures for this post, thinking it was finished, while Mrs. A was browsing her shopping sites.
After a while, she surprised me by saying: "I’ve been looking at some nighties for you and have added a few to the basket. Do you want to have a look?"
I was really taken aback. I had hoped to keep the conversation going about possibly getting another 'dress' or a nightie, and I was thrilled she had taken the initiative! If I had heard correctly, she had more than one in the basket. This didn’t necessarily mean I would get to keep them all, but it was a start.
Trying to keep my enthusiasm under cover, I said as coolly as possible: “Of course! Show me.”
She handed me her iPad. There were three nighties shown. One was exactly what I would have picked; the other two were a little plain, but it was a beginning. Although I have nothing against nighties, I was more interested in dresses that could be used as nighties—a subtle difference.

My mind went into turbo mode, wondering how I could go with the flow while steering her towards the dresses. I asked:“What about dresses suitable as nightwear?”
She said there were no cheap summer dresses on sale suitable as nighties and the others were too expensive.
I knew something was wrong there; only a couple of days prior, I had found several cheap dresses on that very site. Not wanting to give the impression that I’d spent hours browsing, I quickly opened the site on my own iPad and showed her the three pages of summer dresses I'd found.
“Oh! I forgot to look there!” she said, and started to browse.
Since we were both logged into her account, we could browse together.
I suggested: “While you look, I will too; we can both add things to the basket and then prune the list later.”
During this ‘gathering phase’, I added quite a few dresses and nighties, checking that the size was at least an EU 52/54 or 54/56. I’d rather they were too big than have to send them back. The size 48/50 of my current dress must have been an error, as I can usually never squeeze into anything that small.
There was one dress I really wanted that was only in size 52. I added it to the list and hoped it would fit if it ended up on the order.

I could hardly believe that our discussion about styles, patterns, and colours was not about clothes for Mrs. A, but about how I would look and feel in them! We discussed whether an A-line cut would influence the size choice. Because Mrs. A regularly watches bridal programmes, she often asks my opinion on gowns, so we have discovered we have very similar tastes.
We are usually in accord regarding what suits a bride. I am actually more interested in prom dresses than bridal—something for my ‘Abi’s bucket list’ that I shall go on about another time. See my Pink Prom Dress posts.

With the dresses, I stuck to a ‘usable as nighties’ format and didn’t go wild with all types of dresses, such as the three shown here. The first would not have been acceptable with its different layers...
[Ed: Especially with the bolero.]
Yes, obviously. Without it, the look would not be complete. With the second dress, the material and a zip would have given the game away—it would be clear that I wanted a proper dress and not a nightie substitute. The third also has a zip running up the whole back, which is again not suitable for bedwear.
[Ed: With your back, you couldn't have even reached the zip, let alone pulled it up.]
True; I was never good at contortions.

When we checked the basket, we had both picked the same items five times! However, we had gone a bit mad—there were 12 articles on the list. We had to reduce the count. After some ‘maybe next times’ and observing Mrs. A’s reactions, we ended up with four nighties and three dresses.
I had hoped a few more would stay on the list, but I was glad with the result. The undertone was that she expected a few would be going back, and I had to accept that.
The order went out and while we wait, here the picture gallery of the collection.
The four nighties are all between sizes 54 and 58, so they should be fine.


The three dresses were chosen for being ‘suitable as nightwear’. The red and green ones fit the bill, but the blue one is more shapely around the waist. Since it was only available in a 52, I’m sceptical, but it was worth a try. If it doesn’t fit, it will be the first victim of the ‘returns’ pile!


So they arrived. I was caught between being happy that I now had ‘official’ dresses and nighties that I had chosen myself, and a sense of apprehension that I would diplomatically have to choose what would stay and what would be sent back.
I didn’t want to show how eager I was to open the box and try on my ‘known’ girl clothes—as opposed to my ‘secret’ girl clothes in the cellar. I tactically waited until Mrs. A made the first move.
In the afternoon, she suggested: “Shouldn’t you go and try on your nighties and dresses?”
Hearing her say that was surreal—slightly unbelievable, even.
I replied: “Yes, good idea.”
While she was downstairs in the kitchen, I made a beeline for the guest room where I store my ‘known’ hand-me-downs: my recently acquired summer dress, top, and joggers. It is also where I keep my extensive, multicoloured collection of tights, stockings, suspender belts, and girdles—items used in the management of my CVI.

I opened the box and laid out the packages.
I started with the blue dress—the one I suspected wouldn't fit. I was right. It was tight down to the waist and stuck to me like a second skin. Only the skirt was acceptable, with a moderate flare, but as a nightie? No way.

I took a few pictures and removed it with difficulty. It was a shame; I would have really liked to keep it, but there was no chance I could wear it to bed, let alone around the house. Not even in ‘girl mode’, as there was no room for a bra and padding.
[Ed: Good call on the 'no'—bedtime shouldn't require a shoehorn to get out of your clothes.]

I then moved on to the nighties.

Based on the colour and pattern, the one on the far right was my favourite. It was a 50% cotton and 50% modal mix and had a lovely feel to it.

It fitted well and was a nice length; this one was definitely for the ‘keep’ pile.
Looking at it closely, I realised it had a very pretty neckline and hem, as well as lovely detailing around the sleeves.

I left the others nighties in their plastic bags; I wanted Mrs. A to be there when I unpacked the rest so I could get her initial feedback.
Later, I told her about the blue dress. When we looked at it together, she agreed that the label must be incorrect; it was in no way a size 52. As it was now sold out, there was no point in reordering.
So, we had our ‘deciding session’ to determine what I could keep and what had to go back. I knew the blue dress would not be alone when I took it to the post office; the question was, what else would accompany it?
From the start, one of the nighties was a prime candidate because it looked as though it had been washed multiple times—the pattern was nowhere near as bright as the others.
I tried it on, but Mrs A didn’t like it, and I had to agree; it simply wasn't colourful enough.
[Ed: I take it you never thought you’d hear yourself say ‘not colourful enough’ when choosing clothes?]
For male clothes, no. For female clothes? Absolutely.

The other three nighties were ‘waved through’ because the focus was on ‘nighties for me’. I still tried them on so she could see them ‘in action’.
Regarding the two remaining dresses, there was a slight objection: “As you now have three nighties, why do you need a dress as a nightie?”
I wanted to keep them primarily to wear as dresses, so I used the excuse that the material was slightly thicker than the nighties and better for colder weather. I realised this wasn't quite landing, so I compromised: I would keep the green one because it had pockets, and the red one could go back.

I think I could have kept both, but I didn’t want to push my luck. So, the blue and red dresses were packed up with the ‘faded’ nightie and sent off. I am pleased with the result; my official wardrobe has been supplemented with a dress and three nighties (see right). It will be interesting to see what happens over the coming months, especially when the hot summer arrives.
The Déjà Vu
[Ed: I thought we were finished?]
So did I. But as this is relevant, I thought I’d add it here.
[Ed: Fine—but don’t repeat yourself!]
You know very well I have to; it’s in the chapter title!

A couple of days ago, we were sitting in our armchairs with a second cuppa. Mrs. A was in her usual browsing mode, and I was proofreading this post, thinking it was finally finished.
She looked up and asked: “Are you happy with the blue joggers?”
Being half-distracted by my text, I answered: “Yes, they’re fine. Quite comfortable.”
As I’d been wearing them around the house almost constantly, I thought that was proof enough. I wondered why she was asking again.
She now had my full attention. I looked up: “Why do you ask?”
She smiled. “How about another pair in a different colour?”
I smiled back and promptly replied: “Alright—the sesame colour rather than the khaki.”
She gave me a broad grin as she realised that, even without looking, I knew exactly which colours were available.
“Right,” she said. “I was going to order another pair of joggers for myself, so I’ll order yours as well!”

The package arrived within two days. I opened it and removed my joggers; they fitted as expected and went straight into the wash. I noticed that she had ordered a pair in a different design. Later, Mrs A went upstairs to try hers on. She came down with a disappointed face.
“They are far too baggy in the crotch! They must have labelled them wrong!”
She fetched the tape measure, but the measurements were correct.
Frustrated, she said: “I must have shrunk!”
She looked at me, and I knew exactly what was coming.
“They should fit you. Do you want to try them on?”
I was game, though I thought with some amusement that I really had enough feminine joggers by now. It was more to please her than myself.
I said, with exaggerated reluctance: “Oh, alright then. Hand them over.”
I put them on and, while sitting down, looked at the fabric. They weren't as comfy as my embroidered pair, but the pattern was ok, but why not have another?
She asked again: “Do you want to keep them?” I nodded my approval.
She looked at me inquisitively. “Are you sure? The silver sparkly strip down both legs is quite feminine.”

I heard myself repeat it: “The what?!”
I stood up and went into ‘search mode’. There they were: a centimetre-wide sparkly strip running from the waist down each leg. It looked like a racing stripe. My first thought was that I certainly wasn't going to the gym wearing them! I was hesitant, but then I thought: The more the merrier. And it saved us a trip to the post office in the rain.
“Yes, they can stay,” I said, giving her a smile.
I removed them so they could join the others in the wash. Mrs. A was happy they didn't need to be returned. So, now there are two new acquisitions instead of one.
[Ed: Are you finished? Can we get this posted?
I need to get the washing machine going.]
Do that! Any further developments will follow in another post.
Thanks, dear reader, for getting this far.
The Postscript
[Ed: ??..]
Don't say anything, just get me my tea!

As I was finishing the above I acquired two more tops from Mrs. A. One tropical and the other full of stars. Technically, they should belong in a Hand-Me-Down post, but I’ve included them here while I had the chance—just before the surprise and joy of discovering another variant of the ‘Hand-Me’ family.
This time, it was a spontaneous giveaway rather than part of a major clear-out.

I expect a proper clear-out will occur in the not-too-distant future, simply because of the build-up of new clothes and the lack of storage space!
I am very interested to see what I might be offered next time without even needing to use my ‘magic mantra’.
A Hand-Me-Down Part Two post will follow, provided I acquire enough items to present here.

Hand-Me-Downs

omething weird happened last month. Ok I use the word far too often but still it was not something I was expecting and I hesitated somewhat before reacting and Mrs. A interpreted this incorrectly until I responded and corrected her...
[Ed: Get to the point!]
Ok, Ok, I will..
Got to get into the swing of things as it’s been a long time since I posted anything. And why now you may well ask. Well it’s because nothing has really happened. I still dress when I can. I haven’t bought any clothes or heels for over seven years can you believe. This is due to not having my ‘work post box’ anymore and I’m certainly not having anything delivered at home. Another reason is because the wardrobe is packed full and I even have difficulty closing it without catching a dress in the doors.
If you want to have a peep there is a link here and in the top right panel of the blog. In the meantime I have due to needing the space, with great difficulty I might add, moved the rest of my heels that were stored in the left hand side of the wardrobe to the right hand side. A bit of a squeeze would be an understatement. I have no idea of the overall density behind the doors but it must be pretty high!

[Ed: That’s enough about the wardrobe, get back to the topic in the title!]
Ok, but only if you go and brew some tea!
[Ed: ?]

We are now regularly doing bouts of decluttering using variations of what is called the 12-12-12 challenge. That is to locate 12 items to throw away, 12 to donate, and 12 to be returned to their proper home. Simple and effective apart from the last part if you can’t remember to whom the item belongs! All this under the heading of ‘Döstädning’. Don’t panic, we are doing ok, it's just one has to start sometime and it is better to do it while one is still physically capable.

[Ed: And mentally?]
? That enough of that. Where's my tea?

Well this session was Mrs. A throwing out some of her clothes to make way for new ones. The incentive was partly because she had no real idea of what she had and partly because she had no room for the new clothes that have been steadily arriving from numerous clothes companies and being semi permanently stashed in cupboards in our unofficial ‘office’.
Now this decluttering of clothes is an action that has to be handled delicately. Although the selection criteria is either ‘out of style’ or ‘out of size’ or 'its now got more holes than when first bought', Mrs. A always wants me present to give her moral support and the ultimate ‘pollice verso’ to each item that is to either ‘survive’ and to be worn again, or to ‘die’ and be bagged for disposal into our local clothes container.

This time the clothes under scrutiny were mainly tops, t-shirts and blouses.
We first started with shifting all her office located clothes onto the bed.
On surveying the amount of the bed that was still visible, I suspected that this session was going to be a long one..
The routine started off with Mrs. A trying on an item, followed by a discussion to its stay-ability and eventually I would add it to the stay pile to be relocated to somewhere within the vast regions of our bedroom wardrobe, or to stuff it nicely folded into the recycle bag. This went on for some time until Mrs. A got to a top that looked slightly baggy. Without trying it on she handed it to me which I took as rejected.
As I was heading towards the recycle bag she said “Wait, try it on and see if it fits.”
I stopped in my tracks letting what I thought I just heard sink in. I turned towards her with what must have been a look of slight confusion on my face as it was the last thing I expected.
She must have interpreted my expression as if I was not interested and said “If you don’t want to then ..”
I injected rather louder than I intended “No, no it’s ok, I’ll try it on!”
At this point I should mention that none of Mrs. A’s clothes usually fit me as she is 147cm in height and a shoe size of UK3 against my UK9 and so we are not compatible clothes wise. This has understandably frustrated me over the years until I started to buy my own wardrobe in 2014.

So I removed my T-shirt and put it on expecting it to get half way down my torso and no further. But no, it pulled down with ease, the arms were of a reasonable length and there was no feeling of being unable to breathe. With the look on her face I think she was also a little surprised that it fitted.
After being asked to do a slow 360 degree turn she said “It looks ok.”
I nodded and so it ended up neatly folded on a separate pile destined for my section of the wardrobe! Sometime later it happened again!
This time it was a patterned T-shirt. It sort of fitted but not as well as the first item. After a moment’s hesitation it was added to my pile!

Later that day we went for a walk around our local lake and deposited the bagged up rejected clothes into the recycle container at the car park. I must admit I was not sure of what to make of this variation of the classical 'hand-me-downs'.

A couple of days later we had another session with similar clothes. I didn’t expect to get any ‘rejects’ this time, although I was eying each item and mentally adding either a ‘could fit’ or ‘won’t fit’ to the item. I was now primed that there was the possibility that I could get something for my pile.
With items that were heading towards the ‘to be bagged’ pile and had the ‘could fit’ tag, I would give Mrs. A a ‘could possibly fit me’ visual hint. And if she was ok with it, I would try it on.
Well I was lucky. I ended up with two more tops! I must admit by the last item she gave me a sort of quizzical look and I wasn’t quite sure if I had gone too far with my ‘could possibly fit me’ look.

So I ended up with four tops, each one quite different. Here they are folded and stored on one of my shelves. I must admit I’m not sure when I will wear them! Certainly around the house but not I expect in public.
I thought it would be appropriate to wait until I had time to add a few curves and of course heels, before taking some pictures.
Any comments would be welcome.

#1 I like the colour and the stripes, would go with almost anything. The label says ‘Bexleys Woman’ although I don’t think it's a ‘feminine only’ look, colours are quite neutral.
#2: The colour is rather ordinary but on the decorative pattern there are a few small rhinestones scattered about. In the close up you can see them better. Don’t really understand what the pattern is, looks a bit like leopard spots to me but it’s pretty and semi-sparkly.
#3: The blue colour is little on the pale side. The pattern and the butterflies are pretty. Bit thin, should be ok for summer.
#4: Now this is lovely! One can spend ages trying to work out what the patterns are! Looks like a jungle scene. Really like the colours. Added my mint (creased) skirt and heels. Not a ideal match but the colours are in the pattern somewhere. The fabric is silky like, more for summer than the forthcoming winter. I find this last one more feminine than the other three. Maybe that was why I got ‘that look’ when I said I think it would fit. And I think by the look of it it does!

The Stash, The Dream and The Wardrobe

 

ver the years I have, apart from going
on about my stockings, nails and heels, mentioned more than once my frustration about having my Stash in boxes in the cellar.
If you are new here, or would like to refresh a six year ago read, I recommend a quick detour to my last post on this subject (Her Stash and Me).

[Ed: I’ve just gone through it again to make sure you don’t repeat or contradict yourself too much.]
Should I also read it again?
[Ed: Why?]
Good point..

The Dream I
Ever since I started to buy online I have dreamed of having a wardrobe just for my girl clothes and to be able to line up in a row my heel collection without them being cooped up in cardboard shoe boxes all the time. I think the dream was triggered not only from the frustration of not having my clothes easier accessible and with everything that could get creased being creased in boxes, but also after seeing pictures of walk-in wardrobes and wall to wall high heels.

[Ed: Note. This is not Madam's collection.]
No unfortunately, although when I saw this I must admit I went all funny inside. It didn't last long knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to get any of them on with the size of my feet (9UK/43UK/9.5US), even if I had the opportunity to try.

Okay the wardrobe would not be totally box free. There would have to be transparent containers used for the rest, like makeup, wigs, shape ware and the other accessories to make one presentable.
The idea to just be able to open a door and see all my dresses, skirts, blouses and heels in one go seemed to be so far away for so long.
Well the dream came one step nearer to reality in Summer20.

But before I talk about that a mention of my Stash Storage Logistics (SSL) up to that point.
[Ed: SSL!]
Bear with me a while.
[Ed: I take it that it is Madam’s want to partake of Tea?]
Excellent suggestion! That is something I could have thought of.
[Ed: Any particular Mug?]
Go by the title of the post.
[Ed: As Madam wishes.
I will select something appropriate for the occasion.]

SSL Level 1
In the post linked above from Jan16 I mentioned four cardboard boxes plus two blue plastic containers where I kept my Stash. Well, after I realised that I would lose my work ‘post box’ following retirement at the end of that year, I started a long run of panic buying. The result was that after leaving work there were now eight cardboard boxes plus the two blue ones to keep undercover.
I did the maths. Just a little over 1.7 cubic meters in Stashables!

The cardboard boxes were stored on top of a set of Ikea shelving and therefore not within easy reach without a bit of climbing. As you can see the shelving is full to capacity, four wide by two deep. Also, the boxes were a tight fit which made it difficult to grasp when removing.
Some were also quite heavy due to high concentrations of Heels.

[Ed: At lease you didn’t try to get up on the chair in heels.]
I maybe a little dotty at times, but I’m not that daft!

And yes that is a box from the local English Shop which has now had to close due to prices going up, extraordinarily long transport delays and tons of C&E paperwork all because of Brexit.

At the begin of a session I was pulling out boxes from the shelving system, bringing them down to either get to the back boxes or open and search for a garment or heels, then extract if found and close. The box or boxes would then be left on the floor ready for repacking before being replaced on the shelving at the end of the session.

The main problem with everything in boxes was not only the creasing of fabrics and physical access difficulties, but also, quite literally, transparency. You couldn’t ad hoc see what was stored where.

Sometimes I would realise I had very little time to repack and would just do a 'panic pack' disregarding from which box I had extracted what.
Also I complicated it further by not replacing the unlabelled boxes back on the shelve at the same location. This sort of randomised any patterns/locations I might have remembered which meant by the next session …
I think you get my drift.
Apart from the exercise, all in all, a somewhat frustrating experience.

Accessibility was easier with the two blue containers which were stored among other similar blue containers full of electronic stuff, kites, train set, telescopes, drones etc.
Here the advantage was that in the cellar content in general was stored chaotically in similar blue containers and in random places around the room,
- a sort of controlled cluttering.
The strategy behind keeping it this way was, if you want to hide a tree put it in a forest. Over the years it proved to be a workable solution and detecting-deterrent.

In the above mentioned post I also went on about my first attempts at listing and indexing my Stash. Well with these lists I knew, theoretically at least, where everything was..
[Ed: Unless you had a panic pack attack.]
Which was, I have to say, most of the time. Hence my use of the word 'theoretically'. One loses all sense of time when one is in a parallel world..

Heels, which are about half the bulk of my Stash, also lead to further delays in dressing. The heels that came in their original boxes were easy identifiable. But with heels from e.g. New Look, they arrived at work in thick plastic bags. One time I found a package on my desk with stiletto heels poking through the plastic! The yellow heels in the picture below.
Fortunately nobody said anything, they may have had thoughts about it, but nothing was said.

At first I stored the heels in the same bags, with any holes duct tapped up, which made quick identification more difficult and time consuming having to open them and peering in. Later after a mass mailing at work I took home about twenty of the empty envelope boxes as they were ideal for a pair of heels (see picture). I never got round to labelling them with their contents, which as you will see later was fortunate.

SSL Level 2
Following a few frustrated aborted sessions I decided to try another approach. The frustration was due to still relatively long search times caused by having to move around an increasing number of boxes per session. This was mainly because I couldn’t decide what to wear!

I got the idea to organise everything as far as possible by colour.

All whites together tops, dresses, heels etc.
Shape-ware, makeup and wigs etc. being stored in separate dedicated boxes.
Reorganisation and indexing was more elaborate than before and therefore took more time than just filling a box and starting a new one when the other one was full. But in the end it was an improvement when in search and pick mode. I had, let’s say, ‘optimised the dress work flow’.
If I decided on a mint outfit then as starters dresses, heels and accessories were together in the Mint Box. For the majority of colours there was no need to split a colour between two boxes. Odd colours ended up where there was space. For black however I used the two blue containers. The blue container covers were transparent, which wasn’t a problem as the content was all black and without close scrutiny undefinable.
Here we have in my shorthand the contents of the eight cardboard boxes and the two blue containers: B=back, F=front, LL=left, LM=left middle, RM=right middle, RR=Right. Also for the contents: H=heels, D=dress, Skt=Skirt, Jkt=Jacket etc.
If you want a better look at the lists just click on them.
[Ed: Probably not sure now what everything means after so long.]
Well yes a little cryptic now, but I understood it at the time..

SSL Level 3
After a few colour-coded sessions I found it to be quicker and more effective than before but I was still frustrated that I couldn’t just spread everything out to choose and combine for a session.
I still had limited space to manoeuvre due to everything being ‘multi-box based’.
And I also had limited time due to having to make sure I had enough time to repack in an orderly fashion before Mrs.A would open the front door.

After a while I realised I was usually combining the same clothes and heels and so decided to organise
and store by outfit.
The idea was prompted after starting to pin outfits on my Pinterest page as with the example of the Orange outfit above.
[Ed: Note. This is not Madam's outfit.] You don't have to rub it in!

The idea of storing per outfit would allowed me to be more flexible in what box an outfit could be stored.
If I had outfits that I wore more often they would be stored in boxes at the front, while the rest could be strategically stored at the back.

This also allowed me to think beforehand of an outfit and with the minimum of box shifting go, at least again theoretically, directly to the correct box and everything would be in there as a ‘package’.
This last reorganisation took the most part of a weekend while Mrs.A was away for a seminar. Even with the fun factor it takes time, as all girls know, on deciding what to match to what.

Here are two of the resulting ‘packages’.
Above with red heels, red silk blouse, grey pencil skirt, all packed together under ’Business’. Grey seamed stockings and matching jewellery not shown.
And to the right a silk blouse, pink slacks, two pairs of heels (just could not decide which pair and so packed both) and a pink handbag primed with of course a compact, pink lipstick and pink earrings.
All packed together under Pk1:‘Casual’.
Pink Jacket listed not shown here.

Even with all this store, search and find optimisation of my Stash, how much better to just open doors and choose without having to first consult listings and shift boxes around like in the computer game Sokoban.


The Dream II
As said above the dream came one step nearer to reality after Mrs.A mentioned that it was about time that our guest room was redecorated. And as we were about it, have a built in wall to wall wardrobe with sliding doors, a new guest couch/bed and proper lighting. I was fully decor with this, not only as it was well overdue, but I immediately had an idea with what I could do with the old four door wardrobe in our guest room.

I tentatively mentioned in passing to MrsA that the wardrobe could go in the cellar and I could use it for de-cluttering the cellar of boxes and get at last the chance to see what the floor looked like. I also thought it would be a good idea to keep and move the old bed/couch to the cellar.
She was somewhat sceptical about this as she thought both should be thrown out. She went on about the wardrobe almost falling apart and the couch too hard for guests. And why in the cellar? There was hardly any space down there and if so, where would they be placed etc..
I tacitly left it at that point and we went about making plans for the renovation. Parallel to this I started a ‘feasibility study’ to see if my idea for relocation of the wardrobe and couch would work.

The Wardrobe
As it was an ‘Ikea clone’ type wardrobe it would be easy to dismantle and modify if needed and rebuild two floors down. I measured the wardrobe as it was and the place where I wanted it. The width of the wardrobe was two metres. The space behind the cellar door two metres and one cm! A close call but it would fit, so I thought at first.
Also no real problem with the couch, although there was only a ten centimetre margin where I wanted to place it.
Looking at the wardrobe upstairs there was plenty of head room above it. What I had forgotten is that the cellar ceiling was way lower than the other rooms in the house. The wardrobe was, after measuring the height of the cellar, three centimetres too high.
This would mean, so I thought, some modifications by taking off three centimetres from the doors and walls after dismantling and before the rebuild.
Well it was a little more complicated than that.

My main reason to recycle this particular wardrobe was not only it was there in the house but because the doors were also lockable! Not your heavy duty padlock, just a simple one so the doors would stay closed and didn’t fly open as one went by.
The cellar is also my music studio not just my boudoir. Having the addition of a bed/couch it would also become a potential place to have an overnight guest. It would be a big advantage (if not a necessity) to be able to lock and remove the keys so as to stop anyone, especially younger members of our family, from taking a causal look when alone down there for whatever reason.
If I cannot stop myself taking a peek into a colleague's parents wardrobe while staying the night I can't expect others not to do the same (see The Wardrobe).
I didn’t really fancy doing any woodwork on the doors or locks and so I searched in the Net for a wardrobe where I wouldn’t need to do any form of modification. Well no such luck.
I found out that wardrobes are not usually made for cellars and come in general at a standard height and would therefore not fit without modifications. Also I couldn’t find anything lockable whatever size.
So I had no choice but to be prepared to do a bit of carpentry and to work out how to modify the simple locking mechanism so it would still function.

Over the months up to the renovation Mrs.A got round to letting me have my way. It turn out that at least keeping the couch was a good idea. Due to the heat waves of the previous two summers she thought about going down here to read and relax on the couch while I gave her some background music.

I started to fine tune my reorganisation plan. What was to go where and what had to be got rid of. A friend gladly took the IKEA shelving as I would not be needing it; only the space it took up. I temporarily rearranged the Stash boxes to the other end of the room and covered them with a blanket, hopefully out of sight and out of mind.

On the first day of the renovation our carpenters were a little surprised that instead of having only to dismantle a wardrobe and couch and take them outside to be disposed of, they were instead diverted to the cellar and asked to rebuild them.
I told them about my idea of shortening the doors and the locking mechanism. They listened and nodded at all the right moments and when I had left they just took three centimetres off the base pedestal on which the wardrobe stood leaving the doors and walls intact!
It turned out to be a perfect fit!

I had now, I thought, plenty of room to store all of my Stash. With two meters of hanging rail I could have hung almost double the amount of ‘hangables’. And with 2x2 meters of shelving I could just about line up all my heels.
Well over the following weeks while the renovations were in full swing upstairs, I spent time noting what was in each of the boxes scattered around the cellar and where the contents should go.
It slowly dawned on me that apart from my Stash I had also to ‘stash’ non Abi stuff. I also realised Mrs.A would quite likely want to see how I had put the wardrobe to use and not just be content that she didn't have to slalom through the room trying not to fall over boxes to get to the back door.
The consequence was I would have to be able, in the presence of Mrs.A/family members/friends, to open at least one side of the wardrobe without letting the cat out of the bag. This, I realised meant I could only use one side for my wardrobe and the other side for other things.

With this in mind my first task was to see if I could store all the Stash boxes as well as the other stuff in the wardrobe and close the doors. I didn’t expect the need to hire a subway pusher but I really wasn’t sure it I would get everything in.
It was a sort of pack and pray volume test.
I removed the shelving and rails and every now and then when I had ‘cellar time’ I would move boxes and stack them in the wardrobe.

Well it didn’t take long to realise that I could not store all my Stash boxes in the right hand side of the wardrobe. There were still a few boxes that would have to be stored on the left hand side. The next task was to see if by empting the boxes I would have more flexibility to optimise the storage on the right, e.g. hanging up my clothes and storing heels boxes on the shelves.

There was a time slot coming up where Mrs.A would be away for three hours. I would use this to remove all Abi boxes from the wardrobe, extract hangables and see if I could squeeze them all lined up on the rail.

Luckily for some time beforehand I had started to acquire appropriate coat hangers for each dress and blouse. They sort of just disappeared slowly over time from the wardrobes upstairs. I had to make sure I acquired clothes hangers with hooks and lashes appropriate for hanging up dresses with e.g. spaghetti straps. This was another learning curve as I now had at last the opportunity to hang them up!

Well after getting everything up on the rail I could see that I still had enough room to be able to stack on one side transparent containers for makeup, wigs, stockings, and shape ware, etc. all the way up to the rail. The extracting and hanging process took time and I must admit while doing this it was somewhat surreal realising that all this was mine. All the different fabrics, textures and colours was quite overpowering.
I don’t think I was so happy for a long time.
As I had come this far it was either pack everything back into the boxes and pack the boxes back into the wardrobe or try and store the heel boxes above the rail on the two shelves. Looking at the clock I decided to carry on and not go back.

Less than half of my heel collection in their boxes fitted into the right half of the wardrobe and I had to use both shelves in the left half for the rest.
Luckily most of the heel (ex-envelope) boxes were nondescript with no markings or labels indicating what was in them. I'm glad I forgot to do that.
I made sure that the original boxed heels remained at the back and the plain ones at the front.

Was I relieved as I started to flatten out the eight large Stash cardboard boxes.
I never thought I would get so far..
Well my dream become at last a reality.
My wardrobe was now in a wardrobe!

I can now at least open and look at the contents even though I have no real chance to wear what I see at the moment and in future there is all probability that Mrs.A's out-of-house hobbies will end and she will be home 24/7. A slight shift in the nature of my frustration, but on the whole I’m very happy with the results of a dream come true.

Earlier this year I decided to see how many pairs of heels I could line up on the two shelves. It turned out I could place ten pairs per shelf. That is over half of my collection which is better than I thought. It’s a shame but the rest must stay boxed on the left.
At least now when working in the cellar I can quickly select a pair to wear while there. Hey, that rhymes!
As the two shelves are 50cm deep I could place one heel at the back at a slight angle and the other slightly overlapping so the heel of the second one was positioned just at the edge of the shelf.
The angle makes them quite presentable.
[Ed: Presentable? To whom!?]
To me! You don't count! I doubt if anyone else will see them live. Unless I forget to remove the key when we have visitors. I can't remove the key all the time otherwise Mrs.A may ask the silly question
"Where is the second key? Have you lost it?"
My answer would be "No!" Then there would come..
"Then why don't you leave it in the lock? Then you know where it is!"
As you can imagine I don't want to go down that road..
The consequence is I leave it in most of the time. If she wants to have a look inside there is nothing to stop her. Maybe she has had a look, I just have no idea.
[Ed: You're becoming paranoid.]
Don't we know it..
Thinking about it, I need to order the heels a bit differently.
Maybe by colour or height or type or maybe ….
[Ed: Amadán!]
?

[Ed: So, are you going to get round to telling your reader how to get a look at the inside of the wardrobe before they click away in frustration?]
Woops! Almost forgot. Yes of course silly me.
Rambling on about the contents and not a dress or heel in sight!
I could have just added the pictures here but I thought I would give the contents of the wardrobe its own page as with my Heel Collection.
Maybe dear reader you have already cottoned on and are taking a look. If not please just click on the wardrobe doors here on the right. →