Shirts, shirts and more shirts!

Looking into my wardrobe this morning to choose an outfit for the morning's activities, namely a trip to the supermarket for the weekly shop, it struck me just how many shirts I have that I have either never worn, or wear very rarely.

The t shirts hang on a single rail over the rest of the clothes, flapping majestically as if to greet me as I slide open the mirrored panel that covers my section of the wardrobe. The leftmost of three sections of the wardrobe is mine, with the remaining two belonging to my wife and her rather larger collection of outfits.

The shirts are arranged in loose colour order, followed by outerwear and coats, ranging from black work shirts on the left through to more colourful shirts on the right. I take stock of the fifty or so garments in front of me, quickly assessing them by order of preference.

Musing on the idea momentarily I wonder if everyone has a conscious scale of preference for every item of clothing they own, or whether this is just an eccentricity on my part?

Part of me always thinks I ought to throw a significant portion of them away, since some don't fit, and some I'm not keen on, while others are too thick to be worn most of the year round.

I rarely do throw any of them away though.

A significant gap appearing on the shirt rail might encourage colonization of my side of the wardrobe from my wife and her ever increasing collection of coats, jumpers and other garments.

I eventually select an old band t shirt, black with a small logo across the chest. Comfortable and presentable enough for running errands and other light administrative tasks. Not outlandish or bright enough to make me more visible and promote supermarket small talk from the numerous acquaintances that I often run into there.

Beneath the lofty heights of the shirt rail lies the dim, rather less organized series of shelves containing folded trousers and shorts in no particular order. Personally, shorts are always preferable over trousers or jeans, weather permitting.

I peek behind the blind, no rain, doesn’t look too cold out, perfect. Shorts it is! Very pleased with myself that I remembered to check the weather before picking an outfit. This happens less than one third of the time.

The wild west of the wardrobe lies beneath the shelves where the shorts and trousers are stored. Socks and boxer shorts and pyjamas all mixed together without rhyme or reason, with occasional sightings of the rarest of garments the odd sock!

This of course is an affront to the sensibilities of Mrs Maul, who was instrumental in insisting the shirts be colour coded. Her ability to influence this area of the house however is minimal, since I am of the opinion that a Man's drawers are his own private kingdom, to rule over as he sees fit!

Not that there aren't downsides to a lack of organization of course, that pair of socks that constantly slips down, or the boxers that ride up! Both of these irritations and more besides are more often dealt with in chaotic circumstances.

Two safe choices, grey socks with pictures of flying saucers on them and a newer pair of boxer shorts that I recall as being particularly comfortable. Outfit complete.

Now onward, onto bigger and more exciting decisions such as breakfast, coffee or water as the first drink of the day, and other countless minutiae that are bound to make up the day ahead!