I’m all for reduce, reuse, recycle so when I was invited to a clothing swap I was tickled pink to go green -- and hell bent on getting rid of my “I bought this because it’s cute and when I loose ten pounds it will fit me perfectly” clothing collection. With my huge sack of never-worn clothes thrown over my shoulder, I joyfully burst into the room -- and then panicked. What if no one wants my garments? What if my clothes end up fashion orphans? Are my party dresses destined to be wallflowers? Why am I anthropomorphizing my jeans, and more important, why am I using a big word like anthropomorphizing when I’m talking to myself?

I was greeted with a big smile and an even bigger glass of wine. Our hostess (my super smart friend Suzanne) is a pro. She got everyone tipsy first, obviously this wasn’t her first clothing swap rodeo. After we were all in a Cabernet Sauvignon-laced happy place, she put the clothes together in a big pile so no one would know who’s stuff was who’s. Immediately I abandon my clothing like a baby in a basket on the church steps, never glancing back. Who brought the American Apparel striped tights? Not me. You love them? Good riddance to bad leggings.

Gingerly, I tiptoe around the mound of clothing with the trepidation of a girl who can’t squeeze one thigh into anything from Bebe. Then I spot a bunch of stuff that could technically be described as “super-cute” and in my size. I’m not sure if it’s the free clothes, or the free wine, but I start to get a little giddy. It’s a complicated tango and girls move around the room, careful not to step on anyone’s toes, and magically, it all works out. I’m grateful for clothing swaps because I walked away with a bag full of goodies, and all of my unwanted clothes were adopted into their new forever homes.

That’s why I’m grateful for clothing swaps.