# What If You Accidentally Spilled Bleach on Half Your Wardrobe?

Source: https://www.theminimalists.com/bleach/
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2024-06-12
Author: Joshua Fields Millburn

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What if you spilled bleach on half your wardrobe? What would you do?

Some hypothetical questions are so ridiculous we dismiss them as absurd, laughable queries. Sadly, though, the above question is *not* purely hypothetical.

After returning from the final leg of our recent tour, fatigued and murky-headed from cross-country traversing, I separated my dirty laundry into appropriate piles, prepping each color-coded assemblage for its usual rinse and spin cycles. Then, unknowingly and stupidly, I spilled a bottle of liquid bleach on literally half the [clothes](https://www.theminimalists.com/clothes/), staining the floor-strewn heaps, instantly ruining the majority of my wardrobe.

I was shocked by two things.

First, I was shocked by my brainlessness. How could I make such a ridiculous [mistake](https://www.theminimalists.com/mistakes/)? Truth be told, I simply wasn’t [paying attention](https://theminimalists.com/attention). There’s no other explanation. If there’s a lesson to be learned here, it’s that *attention must be paid*, even during the most mundane tasks.

Second, I was shocked I wasn’t more horrified by my idiotic mistake. I should be outraged, right? Two years ago I would’ve been pissed; I would have fumed angrily and cursed the ceiling and hurled various breakable objects at one or more of [my apartment](https://theminimalists.com/apartment)’s walls. But last week, as sodium hypochlorite soaked through my threads, I didn’t react obnoxiously. Instead, I realized I couldn’t [control](https://www.theminimalists.com/control/) everything. I took a few deep breaths, snatched a mop from my closet, and started cleaning the mess I’d made. The sooner we clean up our mess, the sooner we can move on with life.

Sure, half my attire is ruined, but everything’s fine. I’ll replace some of the clothes if I need to, but my closet isn’t upset, and nor should I be. Those clothes were just clothes—replaceable things that don’t have any more meaning than the meaning I give to them. There’s no case in crying over spilt milk—or, in this case—spilt bleach.

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