The Great Closet Swap: Do you switch out your clothes with the season?

CLEVELAND, Ohio – You don’t wear sundresses during a Cleveland winter. You don’t wear flannel in the summer.

Which is why twice a year, I swap out my closet.

My husband makes fun of this massive production every spring and fall, when stacks of tank tops take over the bed and piles of pants are flung all over the floor. “The Great Closet Switch-ut!” he proclaims, with the same enthusiasm that Kelly Kopoor chanted “Fashion show, fashion show, fashion show at lunch!” on “The Office.”

My boss recently asked If this swap was something I did, since he had interrupted his wife mid-organization.

The ritual is a necessity in a climate with four distinct seasons, if you don’t have a closet big enough to accommodate them. It’s especially important if you’re a woman who has separate professional and personal wardrobes.

And it’s fun, since by putting things out of sight and rediscovering them, you get to surprise yourself with a whole new wardrobe twice a year. (Like how with toddlers, you should rotate toys.) I exclaim, “Oh my gosh, I forgot about this!” at least once a switch.

A few caveats:

1. Obviously the hybrid work schedule brought on by the pandemic has blurred the lines between work- and weekend wear. (See Julie Washington’s excellent essay on buttery soft leggings and comfort bras.)
2. Although men have the benefit of dressing in button-down shirts and khakis year-round, whether in the office or at a barbecue, they may also engage in the Great Closet Switch-out. My neighbor says her husband has way more clothes than she does.
3. The more season-specific activities you enjoy, whether that’s swimming or hunting, the more clothing and gear you have to put away when the season is over. I store my wetsuit along with my paddleboard, and a lot of Nordic-patterned sweaters with my skis.

Confused about how this works? Every March, I carefully fold ski sweaters and turtlenecks and fleece leggings to store away in bins until the snow flies again. That’s when I unpack Lilly Pulitzer prints and pastel shorts, delighted at favorites I haven’t seen in six months and thrilled that sunny warm days are on the way. Every October, I swap it back. This may or may not coincide when I switch my quilt for a duvet, and add our mattress heater beneath our sheets.

If I pull out an item that I have no desire to wear, I put it aside to sell or donate. If I go to put away an item I didn’t wear all season, same.

For 16 years, I shared a closet with my husband and stored my excess wardrobe all over the house. Dresses required multiple trips to the attic, carrying armfuls of hangers, where long ago someone handy had hung a long metal rod from the ceiling. Coats went on a rolling rack in the basement. The whole family’s hats and gloves got stuffed in bags by the Christmas decorations. Swimsuits and shorts were sealed in Rubbermaid bins in the basement. Same with off-season pajamas. Boots thrown in a cardboard box.

Now, after my nine-month home renovation project, I have my own closet, where all my dresses can hang year-round. I have a closet dresser where my swimsuits can live, no matter the weather. My wardrobe still requires a switch, but those basement bins have been replaced by zippered storage bags I keep behind the doors of my attic bedroom, under the eaves. The boots can now live in the guest room closet.

This isn’t a one-and-done project. I have holiday Fairisle sweaters and plaid ballet flats I won’t haul out until Thanksgiving, then put back into storage as soon as the New Year’s ball falls. I currently still have jean cut-offs in my drawer for the inevitable hot fall afternoon. T-shirts and work-out gear I never need to move.

Same with lightweight three-quarter summer sweaters, a concept my husband will never understand.