Oh, the wardrobe.

Okay, I've had it. My wardrobe has got to go. For the past six years the only things on my shopping list have included chocolate, ice cream, dance pants, dance shoes, competition dresses, and t-shirts. I'm not kidding. Dance shoes alone cost almost a $150 for a pair that sometimes last up to a year, and I have to have a pair for Latin and standard (I've gone through at least ten pairs - you do the math). Oh, and remember that competition dress I had custom made that cost me closer to two grand? Yeah, worst decision of my life. Why? Because now I'm sitting in dimly lit college-size apartment room, twenty years old, and totally unenthused by every item in my closet. The skirt I wore today? Yeah, I've had it for almost four years, and it was a hand-me-down (I am the queen of hand-me-downs, people). Time to start afresh, otherwise I might kill myself (whoever heard of somebody who killed themselves over their clothing situation??)  I just need some style! 

I need to breathe. Okay, done.

If my closet actually possessed anything that interested me, it would probably look something like this:

Amen.