Ryan Amor

I just realised a couple of days ago that I was going to Japan in a couple of weeks and an important part of that- the packing of what clothes to bring– was going to create a domino effect. That on top of picking what to pack, I had to sort my whole wardrobe all over again.

I started out with a system- wide-legged pants here, slim-fit chinos here, denim there. All light-coloured shirts in one pile, coloured in another. All socks (balled up) on the right, undies on the left in the drawer. All clothes that I haven’t worn for at least a year, in one pile until I decide what to do with them. I bought these mesh organisers and slotted in pants in the order of how frequent I wore them.

And yup, they were organised for a while until they all unravelled, or rather I did. Isn’t this entropy though? The 2nd law of thermodynamics?

We’re all moving towards chaos and oblivion. Neat freaks I think, are actually fighting a losing battle.

All of that had been undone in the space of a season and I realised that while there was a system, I had to follow it to make it work. Strictly follow it. But then there’s my inner saboteur. Why?? I’m an adult, I have my own house and if I want to dump my pants on top of the other until it grew into a mound, well that was my choice. It also doesn’t help that I hate wearing the same look. Depending on my mood, I’d pick from everywhere- the less frequently used pile, the have-to-get-rid-of-this-pile– and try to mix and match, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, then I try all over again, completely ignoring the system, which brings us to here, these piles of stuff.

Do I need to buy more clothes? No. Do I want to buy more? Absolutely. Have I bought new ones lately? Just a couple. We were at Kathmandu the other day looking for socks that complemented my (uhm, new) On sneakers, and the staff informed me that my account had been reset because of a system change. Sorry, he said, especially since you’ve been a member with us since 2008. Gosh, I remember those first couple of months in New Zealand when I was dressed as if I was always caught in a long layover to somewhere, but that I was prepared- the dry-fit shirts, the pants that you could unzip at the thighs and they turned into shorts, the perennial sneakers, the water-resistant packable jacket.

And then one day, I decided to wear something nicer. I think I put on chinos and a dress shirt; I literally got compliments and admiring looks the whole day and from then on, my finances were fucked. At one point, I think I was buying a new piece of clothing every week. From a couple of pairs of shoes, the number grew to over a hundred. And because I really don’t have an innate fashion sense or style, I had to rely on look books which meant buying a whole outfit -top, bottom, a jacket & even shoes- as was pictured, so that they all went together and I didn’t have to think about it.

Sometimes it worked and most of the time it didn’t. A stylist friend told me later on, that the look books were actually a suggestion.

No Ryan- no one in real life layers on a shirt, a dress-shirt and a sweater. Well, if I was a 6 foot 2, ultra-skinny white dude, I would.

But you know, I don’t dress for anyone. I feel great when everything is well put together. There must be no lint, wrinkle, stain or fading. I can’t count the number of times I had to go back home to check if I had unplugged the iron (which makes it necessary now to plan and prep what I needed to wear for the week on Sundays).

I feel that I could face anything and do anything. If you look great on the outside, that’s half the battle of life won.

Now back to cleaning.