It is stuffed full of cheap, shabby clothes that are too small for me and tshirts that aren't long enough. And mini-skirts. And horrid coloured trousers. And bobbly cardigans. When I do find something that fits and suits me I wear it utterly to death until it's a drained old rag that I still think looks as good as it did 7 years ago when I first got it. And (those of a sensitive nature look away now) when things tear I mend them. Not even particularly well.
Every so often I go rummaging though and astound myself by coming up with a stylish outfit that I had no idea existed. I'm sure there might be the bones of a reasonable wardrobe hidden in there but it's very well hidden.
And I rarely iron things before hanging them up so now getting everything ironed would be a gargantuan task.
And I have things in there that I'm only keeping to ebay when I get around to it.
And somewhere in the depths of my wardrobe's gullet is my favourite bra and I can't find it.
I can't afford new clothes very often at all. I tend to buy second hand or make do with what I've got. Unfortunately, what I've got is the wardrobe of a skinflint teenager two sizes smaller than me and a completely different (pre-baby) shape.