The Lumpy Vase That Changed Everything
I sat at the wheel in the VCU community studio, hands covered in clay, staring at what was supposed to be a simple mug. It was lopsided, thick in all the wrong places, and honestly kind of ugly.
My instructor walked by and said gently, “Sometimes you have to let it go back into the bucket.”
That moment hit harder than it should have. Because I realized I was doing the exact same thing with my closet — holding onto pieces that were never going to be right, waiting for them to somehow transform into what I wanted them to be.
Two Creative Practices, One Big Lesson
I’ve been throwing pottery for a few years now. It’s become my favorite weekend escape from styling clients and raising kids. There’s something meditative about centering clay and watching it rise under your hands.
But pottery also forces you to confront imperfection constantly.
A piece can look promising on the wheel but crack in drying. The glaze might not fire the way you imagined. The shape that felt perfect when wet can look clumsy once fired.
You learn quickly that attachment to a failed piece only takes up space in your studio — and your mind. The clay goes back into the bucket to be reborn as something better.
The Closet Parallel
My closet used to be full of “almost” pieces.
That dress I bought hoping it would make me feel elegant but actually made me feel frumpy. The pants that were almost the right length but always needed heels I never wear. The sweater that pilled after two washes but still had the tags on it because I spent too much to let it go.
I was keeping them for the same reason I kept bad pottery: sunk cost fallacy mixed with wishful thinking.
“What if I lose five pounds?”
“What if I have that perfect occasion?”
“What if it looks better next season?”
The pottery studio taught me the liberating truth: Let it go.
The Great Closet Purge of 2023
After one particularly frustrating pottery session where three pieces cracked in the kiln, I came home and attacked my closet with new resolve.
I pulled out everything that didn’t spark joy or practical use. Into the donation pile went:
The “aspirational” heels
Three blouses that never quite fit right
That trendy jacket I wore exactly once
For each piece I removed, I asked the pottery question: “Is this worth keeping through the next firing?”
Most weren’t.
The space that opened up felt incredible. Not just physical space, but mental space. My remaining pieces suddenly had room to breathe — and I could actually see what I owned.
What I Kept (And Why)
The keepers all shared pottery-like qualities:
They had good “form” — flattering proportion and fit
They had survived real “firings” — multiple wears and washes
They brought me genuine satisfaction when I used them
My 1992 barn jacket. The canvas blazer. The pieces that had proven themselves through real Richmond life.
These are the items that earned their hanger, just like the successful pots that make it to my kitchen shelf.
Lessons From the Wheel I Apply to Style
Center before you build. Know your body and lifestyle before choosing clothes. Everything else wobbles.
Imperfection is part of the process. A slightly worn-in favorite sweater has more soul than a perfect but unused one.
Letting go creates possibility. Empty space on the wheel (or in the closet) is where new, better things can happen.
Some pieces are practice. Not every garment needs to be a masterpiece. Some teach you what doesn’t work.
The best ones improve with time. Like a well-loved mug that fits your hand perfectly, the right clothes get better with age and use.
Maya and Leo’s Take
My daughter Maya, now 10 and increasingly opinionated about clothes, watched me during the big purge.
“Why are you getting rid of so much?” she asked.
“Because,” I told her, “I want my closet to be full of things I actually love wearing, not things I feel guilty about.”
She nodded thoughtfully and then immediately asked if she could have one of the shirts I was donating. Kids.
Leo just wanted to play with the empty hangers.
The Freedom on the Other Side
Letting go of clothes that no longer serve me has been as liberating as recycling a failed pot.
I dress faster. I feel better in everything I own. And when I do bring something new home, it has space to integrate instead of competing with clutter.
The pottery studio reminds me weekly: creation requires destruction sometimes. Or at least release.
Your closet works the same way.
Try This Simple Exercise
Next time you open your closet, pick one item you haven’t worn in six months. Hold it and ask honestly: Is this worth keeping through the next “firing”?
If the answer is no, thank it for its service and let it go.
The space you create might just become your next favorite piece — or the peace of mind that comes with a lighter, truer wardrobe.
Every piece earns its hanger. And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is remove the ones that don’t.
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