The Civil War that Rages Within My Wardrobe

“Daughter of Eve from the far land of Spare Oom where eternal summer reigns around the bright city of War Drobe, how would it be if you came and had tea with me?” 
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Once upon a time there existed The Wardrobe, a closet of admirable character, where well behaved fabrics spoke in hushed tones and pretty blouses and well structured blazers chattered merrily to each other to pass the time of day. They lived in undisputed comfort amid the backdrop of Japanese cherry blossom. They waited in joyful anticipation, 'will she pick me today?' They were, as a rule, well cared for and even though some garments would disappear for a longer time than others, they were never jealous or bitter of the favourites. They were a happy collection. 

In the southern hemisphere of The Wardrobe there lived a clan of some distant relation, a group known as Shoes. They were the far removed cousins to the Clothes from North Wardrobe. The two groups got on quite well, often the Clothes and the Shoes would go out together but their romantic relationships never lasted long. If a new garment came to live in The Wardrobe the Shoes were easily excitable. They were always attracted to something younger. Anything with glitz and glamour would  catch their eye. Sometimes the Shoes got a bit rowdy and rough around the edges, but in the most part the Clothes would just smile with their shiny zippers. Their bright button eyes would wink at each other knowingly. The Clothes and The Shoes were all happy to live together in The Wardrobe.

Then one day something happened, a pair of rogue shoes, like nothing seen before arrived. They were boxy and bright and very loud. They smelt vaguely of rubber and had long ropey tentacles that flung themselves this way and that without a care. They seemed to have a lot to boast about, 'We're runners!' they would exclaim, "We're here to conquer the world!" The rest of the inhabitants of The Wardrobe became unsettled, unsure of what chaos this maverick footwear would bring to their ideal world.  Soon others joined the first pair of  Runners and before too long they had extended throughout the southern hemisphere, trampling over the pretty heels and bringing a less than elegant smell to The Wardrobe, North and South.

It was not just the Clothes and Shoes whose land was being invaded, the Belts and Watches who lived in the Island of Drawers reported the introduction of funny looking fluorescent time keepers that not only kept time but could also record distance and track something called calories. These were not the beautifully crafted or fashionable watches such as those who had resided in the Island of Drawers since the beginning of time, they were brash and cheap. And more recently, the Belts and Watches said, ugly leg wrapping garments made of Lycra that laughed and joked with sleeveless tops of obscene colour had come to live in the Island of Drawers.

It was a time of change, unwelcome change. The boisterous Runners became more and more demanding and the Shoes became shrill and pompous. The Clothes developed an anxiety disorder and began to doubt themselves. It was a standoff in which nobody could be a winner.

But recently the raucous behaviour of the Runners, the ugly black leg squeezers and the ridiculously bright timekeeping, calorie-munching invaders has become too much for the gentle, attractive residents of The Wardrobe. The motley crew of athletic primitives will be segregated to the prison of Laundry where they can live their days with other undesirables such as bin-bags, bucket and mop.

THE END

“She did not shut it properly because she knew that it is very silly to shut oneself into a wardrobe, even if it is not a magic one.” 
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe