"Try it on for me, baby. One last time," I pleaded.
When my husband slipped on the teeny cutoff "jorts" (that's fancy for jean shorts), so short that they exposed the pocket lining, I had to grab the wall to hold myself up. I could do this. I was strong enough.
Then came the white "wife-beater" crop-top. The jagged cut was so ambitious that it fully revealed his belly and half of his man-nipples.
That's when I burst into tears.
"No!" I stomped. "Please, no. This can't be happening."
"Aimee, pull yourself together. This needs to happen. You will be OK," he said, the earnestness of his voice a violent contradiction to his attire.
I remembered this outfit. We named it "Gus." My husband had worn it five years ago to the most offensive theme party ever, my friend's friend's "To Catch a Predator" Christmas party. Horrible. Gus had a thin mustache and full lamb chops. I would miss Gus.
My husband grabbed the neckline of his top, which was kind of simultaneously the waistline, too, and he pulled -- Hulk-like -- and ripped it down the middle. I felt my heart rip with it. He wadded it up and smashed it into the large trash bag that stood, brimming full, between us.
"It's gone now," he said.
I've never considered myself a hoarder. I don't even have any cats. I have watched the hoarders reality shows and wondered how -- how does that happen?
Well, unless they have an addiction to costumes. I get that.
I had 15, 45-gallon storage containers packed and stacked with more costumes than the Ritz. But I didn't have a problem. The sheer number of aprons I owned and refused to part with were negatively affecting my relationships. But they were practical. And amusing. What if I needed them some day?
This was a longtime-coming spring cleaning. I had no problem tossing my boxes of old love letters, and I definitely didn't hesitate to chuck the photos of my husband's ex-girlfriend without asking him. The box of shot glasses I collected from every country I've visited since age 18? Smash it. Even most of my daughter's old baby clothes that everyone warned me would emotionally hang me. Gone. Well, except her tutus. And alligator suit. Those, I needed to keep.
Along with every costume I'd ever worn or thought about wearing or thought about thinking about.
I had hunted hard for that neon ski suit. I'd invested a lot of glue gun to affix those 250 bells to that Christmas apron. And, moreover, these outfits made me laugh. They symbolized a fun time in my life, before I got so old and stressed out and boring, with my blazers and vacuum cleaner with the detachable stair hose and quinoa.
Parting with my costumes felt like giving up on being silly, and that felt a lot like growing up. Trading the funny factor for practical organization hurt like growing pains. Inevitable, I guess, yet uncomfortable.
I didn't realize how much emotion I had been wrapping around my sequined prom gowns and wig collection.
And I recognize how ironic it is to cry over something because it's so funny, such as a clip-on beard. It clips on to your nose. Your nose! Oh, the sadness.
It's odd, the objects that end up meaning the most to us. You can try to explain it, but our reasons run deeper than logic, and unpredictably, too.
For some of us, we cling to the onesies our babies wore, or old photos, or dried flowers, or awards, or the T-shirt our grandpa gave us before he died. For others, it's stonewashed "jorts" and a trucker hat. Or cats. Or even emptiness.
Who am I to judge? I cried about "jorts."
I am proud to say I made major progress toward unchaining myself from my costume collection.
I now have only 14, 45-gallon bins.
And I've bought only three replacement aprons so far. This week. You should see them. They're a hoot. If only they had more bells.
Read more stories from the weirdest city in America, Boulder, Colorado, here: Only In Boulder. This story originally appeared in the Boulder Daily Camera.
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
It's Another Trump-Biden Showdown — And We Need Your Help
The Future Of Democracy Is At Stake
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
Your Loyalty Means The World To Us
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
The 2024 election is heating up, and women's rights, health care, voting rights, and the very future of democracy are all at stake. Donald Trump will face Joe Biden in the most consequential vote of our time. And HuffPost will be there, covering every twist and turn. America's future hangs in the balance. Would you consider contributing to support our journalism and keep it free for all during this critical season?
HuffPost believes news should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay for it. We rely on readers like you to help fund our work. Any contribution you can make — even as little as $2 — goes directly toward supporting the impactful journalism that we will continue to produce this year. Thank you for being part of our story.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
It's official: Donald Trump will face Joe Biden this fall in the presidential election. As we face the most consequential presidential election of our time, HuffPost is committed to bringing you up-to-date, accurate news about the 2024 race. While other outlets have retreated behind paywalls, you can trust our news will stay free.
But we can't do it without your help. Reader funding is one of the key ways we support our newsroom. Would you consider making a donation to help fund our news during this critical time? Your contributions are vital to supporting a free press.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our journalism free and accessible to all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. Would you consider becoming a regular HuffPost contributor?
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. If circumstances have changed since you last contributed, we hope you'll consider contributing to HuffPost once more.
Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.