I’m not a clothes horse, neither is my wife. We like nice stuff, but we’ve never had to move to a new house because our closets were too small.

Now, we are looking at four years on a boat. Closet isn’t even in the lexicon. The dimensions of the problem are not entirely the kind one can measure with a rule.

Our wardrobes will have to handle temperatures from 30° to 90° (with a preference for 10° above the average of those extremes. It will have to handle a citified wedding, skin devouring sun, and our desire for a second childhood. It has to be large enough to keep trips to the laundromat intermittent vice constant. Somewhere in there have to fit foulies, a wetsuit each, various layers and headgear and gloves, oh my…and shoes…a variety of shoes.

This has led to a taxonomy of clothes because by their taxonomy we shall stow them.

There are core clothes — always at hand. There are marginal clothes — to be sealed in bags and excavated for use. There are cruiser clothes — pretty much the core. There are the masquerading as land people clothes — not quite core and not quite marginal, we need to reach them; they need to emerge from storage ready to wear or almost. And there are specialty clothes. Annnd, there are the let’s lock everything up and go sightseeing for a few days clothes.

All told we have room for 92 items each. Well, I have room for 92 and Janet has room to negotiate up from that number a bit.

It is amazing how quickly 92 items accumulate when belts and ball caps and bandannas are included. It’s a fun problem to have.

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