First, your wardrobe is, or should be, a carefully curated collection: the eclectic pencil skirt that you fished from between velour hot pants and a brocade tapestry jacket at the discount outlet, the immaculate fit jeans you discovered after three hours of slipping your thighs in and out of denim, the quilted handbag you watched until two in the morning when the eBay auction ended with your winning bid. You have sought these pieces out. You waited for them to blossom into sale. You altered them to your exact measurements. The collection of garments cooperates as a team, the sum more than any one part, confiding in one another their flattering secrets.
This is not the realm of storage but display. Your closet is a demi-temple of peace and sanctuary. A space harmonizing yourself and your body. An opportunity to shroud your external self with your internal desires, free from anxiety or conflict.
A personalized boutique where each piece offers a comfortable fit, a blush inducing hue, a style that unifies your internal and external being. Hunting should be done on the sales rack, closets are for efficient decadence.