Man vs. Wo-man

Outta Leftfield: An unsystematic approach to closet organization
Published: Tuesday, October 12, 2010
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

I have an odd feeling that this will be an entry akin to his "I can't do laundry" column, dwelling on the fact that men and women are different, men being dumb and women being smart and mysterious.

I was awakened recently one morning with the sounds of a good bit of harrumphing coming from The Blonde Accountant’s closet.

You aren't awakened "with," you're awakened "by."

Early morning harrumphing is usually not a good sign.

“What’s wrong in there?” I asked, only half awake at that point.

Ah, a classic fictional conversation between this mis-matched pair. The conversation will flow thusly: wife will resond, Morsch won't understand, wife will explain, Morsch still won't understand, wife will become exasperated.

“I can’t find my navy blue shoes. I need a new system,” she said.

“A new system? For what?”

“To keep track of what’s in this closet,” she said.

Oh. Well that certainly is a reason to break out the early morning harrumphs.

I don't mean to toot my own horn here, but I was pretty spot-on.

As I pondered whether I wanted to get up and get ready for work or try to sneak in an extra 10 minutes of sack time, it occurred to me that I do not have a system. For anything. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spent any time thinking about the need for having a system.

Oh, boy, us dopey men. Actually he does have a system for writing his columns: write, then publish, a crappy column.

I have no system for my shoes, I have no system for my clothes, I have no system for any of my stuff. (Although in this instance, I can see the benefit of developing some sort of system for staying in bed in the morning for an extra 10 minutes rather than using that time thinking about the need for developing a system.)

We're belaboring the point a little, but okay.

Oh, I can manage to hang up my shirts and pants in the closet — shirts on the left, pants on the right — but I do that to limit the harrumphing in our house to just one closet.

In more capable hands, I could see this topic being funny. But we've been over this before. How many times can he sit down and write a column about things his wife understands but he does not?

As for shoes, The Blonde Accountant has 6,497 pairs of shoes in the warehouse she calls a closet. (And she of course has nearly that many handbags to match all of those shoes.) I understand the need for her to have a system to keep track of all that footwear and accessories.

Wow, a number that high just HAS to be hilarious!

But I’m a guy, I have substantially fewer pairs of shoes, which is why there is no urgency to develop a system to keep track of them. In fact, I have only five pairs of shoes. Normally I can count to five, so there’s my system right there.

Men are SO stupid it's doubtful that they can even count! America, what a country!

I wondered how others handled this issue, so I threw open the question to my Facebook friends, a motley crew of rascals, rogues and roguettes, but usually good sources of varied perspectives.

Strange how this "crew" always seems to be comprised of the same three or four people. Morsch thinks it's amusing to stick "ettes" onto words (knuckleheadettes, rouguettes, etc). Is it? YOU be the judge.

Ann chimed in and suggested that maybe The Blonde Accountant ought to take pictures of each pair of shoes and attach them to the outside of the boxes.

Take pictures of the shoes and put them on the outside of the box? That would be impossible for me to do because I don’t keep my shoes in the boxes.

Shoes out of the boxes! Not being able to count! Spilling mustard!

Nevertheless, it’s a good suggestion in theory, but by conservative estimates, it could take four years to photograph 6,497 pairs of shoes. I think I will take Ann’s other bit of advice — and I’m paraphrasing here — never get between a women and her efforts to photograph her shoes.

Returning to the "high numbers are funny" thing, I see.

Frank, on the other hand, presents a perspective of both his wife’s closet and his own that makes more sense to me. He describes his wife’s closet as having, “Everything in its place, and there seems to be equal space between every hanger, apparently to allow every fiber to breath.”

This is just a guess on my part, but I suspect all the clothing items in my closet are holding their breath because they have to share space with my shoes.

His feet smell! He gets things stuck between his teeth! He slips on banana peels!

Frank goes on to admit something that sounds more familiar — that he has to step over two piles of laundry on the floor to reach the shelves that hold his extensive T-shirt collection, neatly shoved, but barely folded, into the space it occupies.

I think we get it. Men are slobs compared to women. This is barely even an idea. Remind me again how this man is qualified for his position?

And really, if you’re a guy and your closet doesn’t resemble the aforementioned description, then you’ve got a wife who has been harrumphing around in your closet.

All marriages are comprised of a stern, neat woman and a bumbling, sloppy man. Just ask any TV show.

Truth be told, those of us who actually get our articles of clothing into a closet already have a system that works, it’s just that it’s not likely to be the system employed by those who have lots of shoes and handbags.

Naturally, The Blonde Accountant will read this and I’ll spend all of next weekend cleaning out my closet and taking pictures of my shoes to put on the outside of the shoeboxes that I’ve already tossed.

Women buy shoes! Husbands are hen-pecked! The ideas here are about as fresh as last month's produce.

It’s what I believe is called system maintenance.

This makes no sense.