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My life was turned upside down three months ago when my family moved from Arizona to California. I was enjoying my life in a really expansive house with a giant backyard and all I had to do to get out there was scratch on the door and someone would let me out. Well, things have changed, so I thought I would tell you a little bit about what my life looks like now.

I did have a giant backyard in Arizona, but there was one big problem. It was HOT. For almost half the year my parents said it was too hot to take me for a walk. Apparently if it was over 90 degrees, we weren’t going anywhere. So I had a big backyard, but most of the time I was just out there by myself doing my business and coming back inside.

Things are very different here.

After the torture of a hot ride through Arizona and California to get to our new home, I am happy to report, life is good over here in sunny Laguna Beach. I start each day with a walk on the beach. I don’t even have to be on my leash which is such a nice change. I can wander about smelling everything and lifting my leg as I please. It’s fun when my friends show up and we can run around. Pixie is my favorite. She’s young and spunky and we love to play chase. I like Jelly, Sully and Woody too. Sometimes I smell treats in their owner’s pockets and I stay close to their side hoping they might give me one. It’s fun to chase the birds and when I’m really lucky, I find a little snack buried in the sand. My mom usually disagrees that it’s a snack and tries to pull me away from it.

I love what happens after our beach walk. I get to eat! This new food we have is my favorite thing in the world. I love it. Freshpet had me in mind when they made their food.

Now for a long nap. If I can’t get comfortable on the bed, the couch, the loveseat or the floor, I’ll go lay outside on the couch in the sun. This is the life, snoozing away to the sound of the waves crashing. I can see everything from this perch up here so if I spot any dogs on the beach, I’ll bark at them to let them know I’m up here watching.

Usually midway through the day I go for another walk. This one is in the really expensive neighborhood by our condo. There are so many flowers and bushes to smell and lift my leg on. Every once in a while we run into another dog, Aspen is probably my favorite. She is much bigger than me, but she’s a puppy so I’m not scared of her. I also get a lot of attention when we’re out walking because I have a mohawk. People are always stopping to tell me how cute I am and asking my parents what kind of dog I am. I don’t really know what the big deal is. I’ve always had a mohawk.

Nap time again. I love to lounge. I spend my time resting and relaxing all over the place. I never sleep in the same place all the time, I like to mix it up. I like our smaller home, it makes it so much easier to keep track of my mom and dad. I always know what’s going on.

My second favorite part of the day is when I get to eat again. Even though the food is exactly the same as every other day, I still love it and eat it as fast as I can because I am a good boy, that’s what my mom and dad tell me anyway.

I usually just lay around until it’s time for a nighttime walk in the neighborhood again. I really like this one because it’s dark and there are so many things to smell. I know my parents have trouble seeing so I get to lead them on this evening walk which is really fun. I like to go super duper fast.

Then it’s time for bed. I love to sleep cuddled up close to my mom. I have my own blanket and lay almost on her head. Sometimes she rolls over onto me so then I crawl over to my dad’s side and really get a chance to sleep hard.

I did have one tragedy since living in this new place. I’m not really sure what happened but I had a lot of pain in my mouth and one day I went to the vet. They put me to sleep and when I woke up almost all of my teeth were gone. I was really tired after that and I couldn’t go on the beach for a whole week. It was torture.

My mom used to leave the house a lot more. I think she had a job. She had a lot of clothes with piles everywhere. Now she’s home. Sometimes she tries on clothes and takes pictures of herself. Other times she takes pictures of the clothes and puts them into packages. I don’t really understand what she’s doing, but I always get up and stand by her while she works.

My dad is in one room a lot of the time. He talks a lot on the phone or just to the computer. I can hear other voices I don’t know but I don’t bark because I am a good boy. He usually keeps the door closed so I can’t go in.

I really like to play king of the castle. Sometimes my mom and dad get dressed up and leave me home alone. At first when they leave I’m sad and a little scared but after a little while I realize I’m ok and I pretend I’m king of the castle. I lay on their pillows, I rub my butt on the carpet, I bark a lot. It’s fun but it wears me out so when they come home, I’m almost too tired for our walk. But I never say no because I’m a good boy.

I do miss my backyard sometimes. It was nice being able to go outside whenever I wanted. But in Arizona I mostly went outside by myself. Here my mom and dad have to come with me everywhere.

I forgot! One of the best things about this place is the door to the deck is almost always open! I can go outside and lay for awhile, then come inside, then go back out again and I don’t have to scratch to get anyone’s attention. The bad news is the deck is not a bathroom. Apparently. So if I have to go in between my walks, I still have to scratch or whine until someone figures out what I’m trying to tell them. Sometimes it takes forever. Humans aren't very smart.

So that’s pretty much my life now. I don’t have my giant backyard anymore and I have almost no teeth. But I get three walks a day, I have friends on the beach, my food is delicious, the door to the deck is almost always open and my mom is home a lot more than she used to be.

I think California is working out pretty well for me.

I know because I stood behind it.

We were at a Dolce & Gabbana event during NYFW when influencers began arriving and were ushered past the rope long before the general public was allowed in.

I wasn’t offended. I wasn’t even surprised.

That’s fashion.

The mystique and exclusivity of Fashion Week have always been part of its allure. The designer shows aren’t events you simply decide to attend. You’re invited because of who you are, who you know, who you represent or how much influence you have.

I owned a women’s boutique for 13 years.

In that world, that doesn’t make me anybody.

Being in NYC during Fashion Week is exciting in itself. My son and I had purchased pieces from Iseder, which gave us access to their show, and we had tickets for Runway 7 and The Bureau shows.

We saw shows. But we didn’t see THE shows.

Iseder was Riley’s choice. It’s a unique brand and the crowd was eclectic. The show was held in the dining room of a fancy restaurant and there were only nine looks. Some of them were a little odd to me, but I still appreciated being there and seeing an actual designer present a collection.

Runway 7 was a much bigger production with multiple designers and completely different styles coming down the runway. The crowd was young. It was exciting to be at a fashion show in New York during Fashion Week, but it wasn’t quite the experience I had been dreaming about.

The Bureau show at Gotham Hall felt a little closer. The venue was beautiful and more upscale, as were the attendees. The designers felt more established to me, but they still weren’t designers I knew.

I journeyed to Rockefeller Rink to watch Michael Kors on the big screen. I saw that DVF had her runway on the High Line while we were staying just blocks away at the Hotel Gansevoort.

And that pretty much sums up how Fashion Week felt to me.

So close, yet so far from the place I long to be.

I did the fun fashionable things while in New York. Seeing Bergdorf’s windows on Fifth Ave was incredible. Eating lunch at the cafe was memorable and their signature 125th anniversary martini was fabulous. Getting dressed up and going to shows was electrifying, sort of.

And I don’t want any of this to sound like I didn’t appreciate those experiences. I did. I was in New York during Fashion Week with my husband and son, going to shows and doing something I had always wanted to do. There were moments when I looked around and thought, How fun is this? I know how lucky I was to be there.

Wanting something more doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate what I had.

But because these were experiences I could buy, they were different from the part of Fashion Week I was still curious about.

I want to know what it feels like to be invited.

Wanting something more doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate what I had.

I knew New York Fashion Week was exclusive before I went.

Now I understand the exclusivity differently.

I stood on the public side of the rope. I watched from Rockefeller Center. I bought tickets to the shows available to me. And I had fun doing all of it.

But I also caught glimpses of the Fashion Week I’ve always been curious about.

The one on the other side of the rope.

And there’s the problem.

I want to be invited to that side.

I’m not sure I ever will be.

I spent 13 years owning a boutique. I know clothes. I love fashion. I’ve bought collections, worked with brands and dressed women for a living. But none of those things necessarily make me relevant to the people creating a guest list for a major designer show.

Maybe I’ll always be the woman watching Michael Kors on the big screen at Rockefeller Center while the people who matter are sitting at the show.

And yet...

I still want to see THE shows.

I’m just not sure I’m willing to become someone else to get there.

After owning one for 13 years, I notice things.

I notice the merchandising. I notice what’s on the first rack when I walk through the door. I notice the brands. I notice whether someone says hello.

And I can almost always tell when the owner is working.

It’s not necessarily because she gives better service. It’s something harder to explain. There’s a different kind of investment in the conversation. She knows why something is there. She knows the story behind it. She wants to know what brought you in.

After three months of wandering through boutiques in Laguna Beach, I’m realizing that may be what I’m looking for now as much as the clothes themselves.

Connection.

The stores that really speak to me now are the ones where I want to linger. I want to talk to the person behind the counter. I want to get in her head a little and understand why she chose this dress, that designer, those earrings. What made the cut and earned a place on her racks?

Maybe that’s the former boutique owner in me. I know how personal a truly curated collection can be. I am going into these stores to be inspired and hoping to find something - a brand, a designer, a style - that I’ve never seen before. Something I wouldn’t find at a department store or scrolling online.

Years before I lived in Laguna, I actually had a favorite boutique here.

Amenah.

It was in the cutest cottage-like space with a bright, well-lit loft upstairs. The clothes were mostly solid colors—lots of black, white and tan—and the pieces were classic, but there was almost always some little detail that made them interesting.

In other words, it was very me.

Over the years I got to know the owner, and Amenah became the store I always visited when I came to Laguna. I didn’t necessarily go looking for anything specific. I wanted to see what she had found.

Amenah isn’t here anymore, but I think I’ve realized that I’m still looking for that feeling when I walk into a boutique.

I want to discover something.

So if you love discovering small boutiques when you travel too, here is my very unofficial guide to the shops I’ve explored during my first three months in Laguna Beach.

M’Lance

I received the exact experience I seek as a former boutique owner. Michelle, the owner, greeted me and started telling me about the clothes—the natural fabrics, the process of making what she calls “high vibration clothing,” the foraging involved and, my favorite part, how she hand dyes the pieces herself.

Her collection is incredibly unique because she makes it all herself.

She started by showing me a wrap skirt and all the different ways I could style it. I bought it.

Then I bought a top. And a dress. And another skirt.

Clearly, connection works on me. 😂

I was in and out of the fitting room while Michelle styled me, and she was even chatting with my husband while I changed. It was fun. I got to know her, I learned about what she creates and why she creates it, and her passion is something I’ll remember.

These clothes have a story. And now I know the woman behind the story.

Urth and Sea

Urth and Sea is a tiny little treasure trove of handmade jewelry with a heavy pearl and seashell theme. The owner is adorable and creates the jewelry herself.

When I stopped in, I was able to hand-select the pearl cross I wanted as well as the chain. Together we figured out the right length, and then she created the necklace for me while I waited.

This is exactly the kind of thing I hope to find when I shop a small boutique. I left with something I couldn’t have just ordered online—and I know who made it.

Shoals Boutique

Shoals is one of the more recent boutiques I’ve stumbled upon, and I loved it right away. It’s a new store owned by a mother and daughter who moved to Laguna from the East Coast.

I liked the vibe as soon as I walked in, but I especially liked the mix of brands. They carry Lilla P, Rails and Velvet—brands I already know and like—and the price point feels right to me. Not too high-end, not too inexpensive, but that sweet spot where I can find something special that I’ll actually wear. I found a fabulous pair of navy pants from Carve Designs, a brand that was new to me. The coordinating navy and white striped tee by Lilla P is perfect for an elevated coastal look.

I had a great first experience talking with the owners, too.

This is one I’m looking forward to going back to.

A Few More Worth Popping Into

Bluebird Mercantile — For elevated brands and local finds

This cute shop aligns with my age and price point. I like that they carry brands like Pistola and Perfect White Tee as well as unique local designer pieces. The selection of readers is extensive and they have a small men’s section.

On my visits, I've had the kind of product conversation I love. I've learned things about the pieces and designers that I wouldn't have known simply by looking at the tag.

Twig — For graphics and recognizable favorites

Twig had lots of great graphic tees and sweatshirts in buttery-soft fabrics from brands I had never heard of. They also carried several Michael Stars pieces which I am a fan of. I walked away with a fun neutral Laguna Beach sweatshirt that will feel comfy and cozy on cool mornings for beach walks.

Stitch & Feather — For the younger, trend-driven shopper

Stitch & Feather is probably the boutique I pop into most often just to see what’s new. They have several California locations, and the Laguna store is cute, bright and always well merchandised. The assortment skews younger than I am, as does the staff, but I still find things that catch my eye. And I certainly don’t object to the complimentary champagne on Saturdays.

This feels more like a polished multi-location boutique than an owner-operated shop, which makes the experience different—but it’s an easy, fun stop when you’re walking around downtown and want to see what’s new.

Summer Snow
Summer Snow is a clean, organized shop with lots of sweaters, cashmere and cozy pieces for cooler weather. If you’re looking for layers—and Laguna evenings can definitely call for them—this is a good one to pop into.

The Shop
The Shop is on Pacific Coast Highway and carries a mix of swimwear, clothing and eyewear. The assortment skews a little younger than what I typically wear, but I’ve still had luck there. I found a great pair of readers, and my daughter found some fun sunglasses. The staff was friendly and helpful, and we had a good experience shopping together.

Covey Gardens
Covey Gardens is a pretty little shop that mixes home goods with a smaller selection of clothing and accessories. I haven’t purchased anything yet, but it’s an enjoyable place to wander through when I’m in the area.

Abode
Abode is more home than fashion, with a beautiful apothecary selection, jewelry and unique finds mixed throughout. The merchandising always catches my eye, and it’s another store I enjoy popping into just to see what’s new.

Marilee’s Swimwear
Marilee’s is packed with swimwear, but there’s much more than swimsuits—bags, hats and lots of clothing, too. The price point is moderate, so it’s a good stop if you’re looking for beachwear or vacation pieces without designer-level prices.

Still on My List

Luna is a boutique I’ve only walked through so far, but I liked what I saw. The pieces felt classic and very wearable, so it’s one I plan to go back to when I have time to really look.

Laguna Supply and Picnic are still on my list. One of these days soon I’m going to make a point of visiting both.

I love knowing the shops in my town. Maybe that’s another thing that never left me after owning a boutique.

And maybe that’s why the connection matters so much to me.

I appreciate it differently now because I know what happens on the other side of the counter.

I know about the boxes that need to be unpacked, the displays that need to be changed, the orders that have to be placed and the long days when hardly anyone walks through the door. I know how personal it can feel when someone loves what you’ve chosen—and how much it means when they decide to buy it.

After 13 years of owning a boutique, I don’t think that part of me is ever going away.

I may not be behind the counter anymore, but I’ll probably always notice who’s standing there.

And when I find a store where I love the clothes, discover something new and connect with the person behind it?

That’s still my favorite way to shop.

They’re not difficult to find nowadays.

But I’ve noticed something. The way I feel when I wear or use the item that isn’t real is completely different. Why is that?

Right now I have a piece of jewelry that looks similar to one from a much higher-end brand. I have four handbags. Two pairs of shoes.

But in clothing, none.

Oops, wrong, I have a pair of shorts.

I spotted these fabulous shorts from Frankie Shop on Instagram and wanted them so badly, but they were all sold out. My impatience sent me straight to reverse image search, where I found a dupe on Amazon for a fraction of the price.

Of course I ordered them.

I wore them a couple times and tried to make them work the same way the real ones would have, but they felt inferior. The quality just wasn’t there. They were fine, but I realize my taste isn’t really ok with fine.

Then I received an email from Frankie Shop: the shorts were back in stock!

I ordered them.

I’m obsessed with them and would probably wear them every day if I could.

So now I have the shorts I actually wanted - and the dupe.

And while I did wear the dupe a few times, it cost me money too. Instead of saving money, I spent more money and ended up owning two things instead of the one thing I really wanted.

That’s the true cost of the dupe.

And yet, apparently I haven’t completely learned my lesson.

Right now I’m going back and forth about a pair of shoes I purchased because I knew the real thing was unattainable. When I wear them, I feel a little bit like I have a secret I don’t want people to know.

I’ve thought of getting rid of them for that reason, but I am struggling.

They are such amazing shoes.

Does it matter that they aren’t real?

My son has a distinct opinion about this. He says copying a designer isn’t ok and he won’t participate in wearing a dupe. He has tremendous respect for creators and designers and would rather support the person who came up with the idea than the company that copied it.

I agree with him.

And yet, sometimes my desire outweighs my ethics.

That’s uncomfortable to admit.

And maybe that discomfort is telling me something.

What exactly am I trying to satisfy when I buy the dupe?

Is it the unique design? The quality? The label? The status? The feeling? Or am I trying to temporarily become the woman I imagine wearing the original?

Maybe the solution isn’t finding a better dupe. Maybe I need to get better at waiting.

So I’m working on it.

I’m placing items in my shopping cart and walking away. I’m making a list of items I want and letting it sit there without immediately fulfilling it. If I still want those things by Christmas, I’ll put them on my wish list.

But something interesting is happening.

The want often disappears surprisingly quickly.

And then, of course, another item comes along to take its place.

Which has me wondering if the thing I’m chasing isn’t really the handbag, the shoes or the shorts at all.

Maybe I just get excited about something new.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Maybe I just don’t have to buy it.

I used to think it was just a sweet little saying.

After two months in Laguna Beach, I think it means something much deeper.

When we moved from Arizona this summer, we finally had the freedom to ask ourselves a question we hadn’t asked in years:

“If we could live anywhere, where would we choose?”

We’ve spent the last two months settling into our new life. Morning walks on the beach. Tide pools. Sea glass. Doggy friends for Butler.

And yet…

I’ve also found myself missing something I didn’t expect.

Not Arizona.

The people who made me feel at home.

Our children are building lives in Arizona, New York and Kansas. My parents and brother are in South Dakota. The older I get, the more I realize the people I love are spread across a map instead of gathered around one table.

This weekend we headed back to Arizona to look at homes.

At first it felt like we were changing our minds.

But somewhere between the drive and the floor plans, I realized we weren’t trying to move backward.

We’re trying to move closer.

Closer to family.

Closer to the people who have shaped our lives.

Maybe that’s what home has always been.

Not the prettiest view.

Not the perfect house.

Not even the perfect city.

Just the place that makes it easiest to be with the people you love.

The waves have settled down since then making it more peaceful and calm.

We tried the very popular Truly Pizza, loved it and booked another reservation while we were there!

I made my very first baked oreo cheesecake and it was a hit! Thanks to my daughter, Amanda for sharing the recipe.

We loaded up our Soul E-bikes and went for a ride at Crystal Cove State Park making a stop to try Shake Shack and we can’t wait to go back!

After some fierce waves changing the landscape of the sand, things have calmed and the sand is more consistent. The huge shifts did bring in some great finds of sea glass and shells.

Going to my closet was exciting. I always knew what to reach for, and somehow the right outfit made me feel ready to take on the day.

Arizona was easy. The sun showed up every morning, and so did I. Lightweight dresses, sandals, sunglasses. I didn’t have to think very hard.

Then we moved to Laguna Beach, where the weather has a personality of its own.

Some mornings a sweatshirt is too much. By the time I change into a t-shirt, I’m cold again. By afternoon, I’m wondering why I wore sleeves. By evening, I’m searching for a sweater again.

It took me a few weeks to realize I wasn’t just learning how to dress for a different climate.

I was learning how to dress for a different life.

As it turns out, learning how to dress has been one small part of starting over.

We’re looking for a new vet. I need a new place for a blood draw. Cory needs a dentist. We’ve had to find a grocery store, a movie theatre, and the restaurants that will eventually become “our places.”

Some days it feels like an adventure.

Other days it feels like work.

I’ve worn jeans on days that turned out to be perfect for shorts. I’ve layered up for a cool beach morning only to find myself wishing I’d worn a tank by afternoon.

The gray mornings have surprised me more than I expected. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on waking up to sunshine.

The weather keeps reminding me that I’m still getting to know this place.

In Arizona, getting dressed was almost automatic because I already knew my life.

I knew where we’d eat dinner.

I knew which roads I’d drive.

I knew which restaurants required dressing up and which ones didn’t.

I knew the rhythm of my days.

In Laguna, I’m still discovering the rhythm.

Every morning I stand in front of my closet a little longer than I used to. Not because I don’t have anything to wear, but because I’m still learning the rhythm of this place.

Maybe that’s what moving really is.

You don’t just unpack your boxes.

You figure it out as you go.

One beach walk.

One trolley ride.

One favorite restaurant.

One outfit.

I’m beginning to realize that dressing for a new life has very little to do with clothes.

It has everything to do with feeling at home in a place that still feels new.

And maybe that’s okay.

Some things—like style, home, and belonging—aren't meant to be figured out all at once.

Tomorrow morning I'll stand in front of my closet again, and maybe I'll know this place just a little better than I did today.

Cory and I spotted dolphins feeding really close to shore.

We attended our first Pageant of the Masters. Wow!

We ate at Carmelitas and loved it.

We enjoyed a spa day at The Ranch.

I still know how to bring the hummingbirds to my feeder, finally getting two filled up and out on the deck.

We tried Cinepolis and I had my first ever cheddar & cheetos popcorn!

I also brought far more than I needed.

Since arriving, I’ve been editing my closet one piece at a time. In the spaces between beach walks and exploring this beautiful coastal town, I’ve been writing and listing my clothes on Poshmark.

Could I have stuffed everything into trash bags and driven it to Goodwill?

Of course.

But these pieces have value. They were carefully chosen, worn, loved, and woven into different seasons of my life. For now, my little business is giving them the opportunity to become part of someone else’s story.

Today, I pulled out my leopard duster.

A piece that traveled with me to New York, Carmel, and countless dinners, celebrations, and adventures.

I hesitated.

Not because I still wore it, but because I believed I was letting go of the memories attached to it.

Then something shifted.

It wasn’t the leopard duster I wanted to keep.

It was the story.

The photographs.
The journal entries.
The laughter.
The trips.
The woman I was when I wore it.

I realized those memories weren’t hanging on the hanger.

They were already safely tucked away inside me.

Suddenly, letting go felt lighter.

My rolling rack is still overflowing, but now every item that sells becomes something new.

One Louis Vuitton bag became tickets to New York Fashion Week, where my husband, my son, and I will make memories that will last far longer than any handbag ever could.

I’ve started thinking differently about everything I own.

I used to feel anxious because I owned too much.

Now I feel excited because every sale makes room for another experience.

My son has already told me he wants my travel journals someday.

He has never asked for my Chanel bag.

Or my Valentino sneakers.

He wants the stories.

That realization changed everything.

The clothes served their purpose.

They carried me through different chapters of my life.

Now they’re helping fund the next chapter.

From owning a boutique and building friendships I’ll treasure forever…

…to walking the streets of New York with my husband and son during Fashion Week.

It turns out letting go isn’t about losing something.

Sometimes it’s the very thing that allows you to gain more.

And honestly? I think that’s the best trade I’ve ever made.

It sounded adventurous.

Romantic, even.

Although our children had long since left home, our lives hadn’t slowed down. We still loved traveling, working, getting together with friends, and saying yes to new adventures. But somewhere along the way, we realized we were maintaining a house that no longer matched the season of life we were in. We didn’t want less life - we simply wanted less house.

Besides, I’ve always been a little impulsive when it comes to embracing life. One of my favorite mantras is YOLO. I liked it so much I tattooed it on my hand.

So we did it.

What I didn’t realize was that moving wouldn’t just require us to pack our belongings.

It would require us to confront them.

The timing couldn’t have been more complicated. I had just closed Clothes Minded, the boutique I’d poured thirteen years of my life into. The inventory that hadn’t sold moved into our guest bedroom while I continued trying to sell the last pieces online. Then our house sold quickly, our application for a Laguna Beach condo was accepted, and suddenly our dream became very real.

We had two months to dismantle an entire life.

Every day became another round of decisions.

Facebook Marketplace.

Consignment stores.

Trips to Goodwill.

A neighborhood Facebook group where strangers happily came to take things away.

I learned something surprising.

Getting rid of possessions can become a full-time job.

Thankfully, the new owners bought most of our furniture.

But my closet….

My closet was another story.

I’ve already written about discovering nine different versions of myself hanging there. Every jacket, every pair of boots, and every dress represented a woman I’d once been.

There was the incredible piece that stopped me in my tracks on a buying trip in New York.

The blouse from that tiny London boutique I may never shop again.

The concert tee.

The leather jacket.

The beautiful shoes that reminded me of who I was when I wore them.

I purged in layers.

The obvious decisions came first.

Then the harder ones.

Then the impossible ones.

Finally, the day before the movers arrived, I gave up.

I pulled giant black bags over everything that remained and decided those decisions could move with me.

Seeing those bags lined up was sobering.

My clothes weren’t glamorous anymore.

They were just… volume.

Four oversized boxes full of shoes.

Another giant box filled with designer handbags.

For the first time, my overconsumption wasn’t hidden behind beautiful closet lighting or neatly organized shelves.

It was stacked in black bags and cardboard boxes.

It honestly made me a little sick to my stomach.

Books were easy.

Kitchen gadgets were easy.

But clothes?

Shoes?

Bags?

Those weren’t just possessions.

They were memories.

Identity.

Proof of who I’d been.

I kept wishing someone would simply tell me what to do.

I wanted to hire a professional organizer.

I wanted my husband or my son to say “Kim, you don’t need this.”

I was looking for answers anywhere I could find them.

It helped - but there’s something different about another human looking you in the eye and saying “You’re holding onto a life you’ve already lived.”

Instead, I packed it.

Moved it.

Unpacked it.

And now it’s all here again.

Surrounding me.

Waiting for me to make the same decisions I couldn’t make before.

The difference is that this little condo leaves nowhere to hide.

For the first time, I can clearly see what I own.

And maybe, for the first time, I can clearly see what owns me.

Lately, I’ve found myself scrolling through old photos. If I can find a picture of myself wearing something, somehow it feels easier to let it go. Almost as if the memory has already been safely preserved.

Maybe that’s what I’ve really been afraid of.

Not losing the clothes.

Losing the version of me they represent.

When did I become someone who held onto things so tightly?

Maybe that’s the better question.

What am I afraid I’ll lose if I let them go?

Instead, I met all the women I’ve been.

As I started hanging clothes in my tiny Laguna closet, it hit me. This wasn’t one wardrobe. It was the accumulated evidence of decades spent becoming different women.

Boutique Kim, owner of Clothes Minded. She loved to go on buying trips to find treasures for her favorite customers to make them feel chic and elevated, items they would get compliments wearing. She would peruse the brands at market in New York and Las Vegas, thoughtfully assembling looks for the women who trusted her to help them feel like the best version of themselves.

Rocker Chic Kim lives in studs and leather, concert tees from Greenday and Lenny Kravitz concerts, cool boots and edgy accessories. She danced until her feet hurt, screamed every lyric, and never once worried about tomorrow morning.

Warriors Fan Kim loves her blue and gold jerseys, jackets, metallic Valentino sneakers and Curry caps. She loves acquiring new pieces at every game, seeing the Warriors in the Final Four, cheering Steph on while he set records, and cheering while the confetti fell around her and her family after another Warriors win. The blue and gold and black pieces hold memories of some of the best times.

Vegas Kim believes Vegas is the perfect excuse for black lace, sheer details, and dresses she’d never wear anywhere else. The black Chanel Boy Bag and her chic dresses…these pieces remind her of Bruno Mars and PitBull, drinking Cosmopolitans while playing slot machines and fabulous dinners at fancy restaurants.

Country Kim who loves a quality cowboy boot and a denim jacket, who has line danced and kicked up her heels in Nashville, at Country Thunder and at Red Rocks to see Dierks Bentley, Miranda Lambert and Lainey Wilson. Who took her daughters to Nashville and rang in her 50th birthday on a beer bike riding down Broadway.

New York Kim who wears the refined, edgy, black elevated pieces like Loboutins and a black leather moto jacket. Who has walked from The Whitney to the Met and soaked in the city vibes during every step. Who has waited outside The Mark to see Met Gala looks on celebrities. Whose son lives in the Big Apple and they love to bounce around the city photographing everything they do.

Travelista Kim who loves to pop tags wherever she lands, the newness of the outfits matching the attractions she’s seeing in Japan, Italy, France, England and Denmark. But also loves to acquire new items in all of these fabulous places because the fashion there is so good.

Mom Kim is the one wearing the coziest tee and comfiest lounge pants with a pair of slippers in total chill mode, ready to get down to business in the kitchen with a recipe and her Kitchen Aide mixer. Nothing pleases her more than cooking and baking for her family and there’s no reason to dress up when you’re at home with the ones you love.

And now, Laguna Kim, the girl who wears linen, less makeup and more natural hair styles. This Kim is slowing down, settling in, comfortable in her own skin with nothing to prove and so much life still to live.

And then there’s Writer Kim. She doesn’t have much of a wardrobe yet. She’s the one sitting with a laptop and a cup of coffee, trying to make sense of all the women who came before her. She’s learning that closing a business, downsizing a life and starting over in Laguna Beach isn’t an ending after all.

It’s another chapter.

Do I have to be just one of these at a time, and….do I have to let go of some of these versions that might not be me living my best life?

Maybe the goal isn’t choosing just one version of ourselves. Maybe it’s a carefully curated mixtape of every version of who we’ve been - a woman learning that less can still hold more.

Maybe our closets were never meant to tell one story.

Because every version of us got us here.

She deserves gratitude.

She just doesn’t necessarily deserve closet space.

The trick isn’t keeping every piece.

It’s deciding which ones deserve a place in the next chapter.

I’m curious….how many women are living in your closet?

The truck is loaded, I go out and take a look to make sure my items have all been packed with the TLC they deserve, and suddenly my clothes hanging in their black plastic all along the back opening of the truck look different, they, dare I say, look a little ugly.

It’s an unsettling feeling when the items I had collected, cared for, and loved over the years suddenly make me feel at odds with the pedestal they’ve been on for so long. Of course, the real treasures were tucked safely away in photo boxes and memories, but these clothes held chapters too.

We arrive in Laguna. The walk in closet with ample hanging space plus ample shelves, plus drawers have been replaced with mirrored sliding doors and a few drawers. “Houston, we’ve got a problem” literally goes through my mind. They load those black bags into the closet in a flash and it certainly doesn’t look finished or even slightly good. Once the movers have labored through all the other items we own and everything is situated, I tiptoe into the bedroom with my scissors to have some alone time with my wardrobe. I cut the ties and unbundle the bundles and the clothes burst out and it looks like a bursting sale rack in a store I would never shop in. What happened to the wonderful, beautiful pieces that comprised my closet and were taken on trips to New York, Las Vegas, Japan and Copenhagen? They now looked like something I wanted to run from

.

My husband suggested I grab the rolling rack to use as a tool in organizing. I tried it. The rack quickly became stuffed while the closet stayed as stuffed and now I felt claustrophobic in a place that used to bring me joy. I decided to conquer the shoe boxes. 4 boxes with about 10 boxes of shoes inside. Yep, 40 pairs. Every single pair a “keep” or it would have been consigned or donated before we moved. Where will they all go? My brilliant idea was to just stack them all outside of the closet. It’s been a week, they’re still there. I’ve taken photos of a few and listed them on Poshmark. I’ve worn a few. The rest are standing firm, holding their place.

So here I am, a woman who spent 13 years helping other women navigate change through clothes, standing in the middle of my own biggest transition yet. I’m not sure yet what stays and what goes - in my closet or in this new chapter - but I have a feeling figuring it out might be the best part.

Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear your story.

Have you ever looked at something you once loved - a closet, a home, a collection, even a version of yourself - and realized it not longer fit the life you were living?

Tell me in the comments. I have a feeling I’m not the only one unpacking a new chapter…