Closet cleaning continued

And on to dispose of expired wardrobe items. Actually, except for things that are totally beyond repair or are associated with really unpleasant experiences, the Bret Favre rule applies: into under-the-bed storage box retirement, with cedar cubes, to see if I really miss them, before donation. Sometimes retirement is indeed temporary.

I haven't been able to sell clothes since manufacturers switched to those awful nylon labels with sharp edges that dig into your neck or the small of your back. I have to pick them out, very very carefully.

Resolution: this year I will throw out at least one striped shirt. Ever since I saw Anthony Bourdain in Brittany -- on

one of his travel programs -- explaining that nobody wears the striped shirts, they're just for tourists, most are sold in Paris, I've had mixed feelings about striped jerseys. Bourdain bought one for each member of his TV crew and made them pose for the camera. All of a sudden a group of working French stylists, make-up artists, cameramen, sound techs etc., all looked like a group of travelling felons who had

lost the page in the guidebook.

On the other hand, I actually ate at Bourdain's resto in the days when he pretended to be a cook, and IMHO as a cook he is a good TV host. It's not that I am accepting Bourdain as a stylist, it's more that the sight of how unflattering a mass-produced striped shirt can be ...