A stitch in time: why clothes are such vivid reminders of the life we’ve led

What we wear tells the world who we are, but open any wardrobe and the clothes reveal deep memories of our true selves

On my first birthday I was given a charm bracelet and over the years various friends and relations gave me little charms to put on it: a tiny tennis racket, a dog that looked a bit (but not very) like ours, a key for my 21st birthday. Once I earned my own money, I occasionally bought a charm and added it to the bracelet - and it slowly grew into a miniature record of my life. When it was stolen in a burglary, I felt I'd lost not just the physical object but my life story.

Clothes narrate our lives in a similar way, though unfortunately you can't fit them into a tiny box. They are an autobiography in fabric, gathering emotions and memories like a non-rolling stone. When it comes to Proustian triggers, clothes can give the madeleine a run for its money: a rifle through the wardrobe can whisk you back down the corridors of time. It's little wonder that throwing out a beloved dress can feel like burning a diary. It's like giving away part of yourself.