When I was growing up, a “walk-in” closet was only found in expensive houses. What we had could better be described as “reach-in.” My two brothers and I shared a closet that was about half the width of the room. That was about the space I take up for myself today. In addition to my three suits I have multiple dress shirts, almost a dozen shirts for events at work, and a six-month supply of t-shirts from places I stopped overseas, Special Olympics, the blood bank, events at church, and some that I just like. That doesn’t count the ones I have culled because they are worn out, no longer stylish, or duplicates. And my closet is hardly unusual in America today.
I once rented a house with no closets. It was built in an era when all your clothing was folded into one piece of furniture variously known as a wardrobe, chiffarobe, or armoire. Few people would look at such a house today. What is now common was once a sign of wealth.