It’s not my intent to ever want to sound like a villain on “Scooby-Doo,” but in my real-life Case of The Decluttered Closet, I would have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for that meddling adorable jacket!

At the start of the year, fresh off a successful challenge in 2023 to use all my cookbooks, I really thought I had a chance to tackle my next test: To buy little, if any, clothing this year, choosing instead to shop from my own groaning closet and overflowing dresser drawers.

Unless I was replacing a worn staple item or buying something for a specific event, I was going to make myself get creative with the stuff I already had, playing dress-up with old favorites. If I did have to buy something, it would be from a thrift or consignment store or website, for sustainability purposes.

For a while there, it was working. I had gone way into the back of my wardrobe, rediscovering dresses I hadn’t worn in ages and skirts that had fallen on the floor, lost amid the random suitcases and shoes shoved at the bottom. I suddenly saw my myriad T-shirts and jeans with fresh eyes as I became bolder with switching things up for new outfit possibilities. I also lost about 20 pounds, so I salvaged some once ill-fitting items that had been relegated to the giveaway pile and now worked again. I even wrote a column cementing my goals as extra encouragement to not punk out.

But punking out would indeed come in the most innocent of text messages. My friend saw an item at a city boutique that she thought “screamed ‘Leslie.’” Should she grab it? I initially resisted because of my commitment to my challenge. Yet the way she described the piece — a short jacket covered in pink fabric petals — spoke to the part of me that has, since 1986, taken fashion cues from Molly Ringwald’s character in “Pretty in Pink” (though not that terrible prom dress.)

Against my better judgment, I asked for a photo. Bad move. It was even more adorable than expected, and I could see myself walking down the street in it purposefully, in slow-motion, in the music video in my head.

“I don’t suppose it’s a secondhand shop, is it?” I asked. Nope. Brand-spanking new! I remember standing on my stoop, torn over what to do. Wasn’t I supposed to be helping save the earth — and money? Did I really need this new pretty gorgeous thing that went with, like, everything in my closet and with my secondhand Doc Marten Mary Janes? Yeah, I think I did.

I told her to get it.

Even after that springy delight came home, it took me a couple of days to put it in my closet because I felt like I’d failed a simple test I made for myself. If my resolve could be so easily swayed by a flowered jacket, was it really worth anything? I remember sliding back the garments to make way for the jacket and touching a dress I had not yet gotten to in my challenge. I immediately thought “I don’t need this at all,” grabbed it and tossed it on the bed.

Maybe it was the guilt talking, but I started to think that if maybe I went through my whole wardrobe right then and removed everything that didn’t spark joy, Marie Kondo-style, I would not only have more room for this jacket, but it would literally make it easier to see the rest of the wonderful stuff I had. Twenty minutes later, there was a new giveaway pile and I didn’t feel as terrible.

For the rest of the year, that’s been my method. I am still primarily only shopping to replace necessities I can no longer wear because they don’t fit, are dated or worn in a way where repair would cost more than replacement, or just aren’t me anymore. I take those out, give them away and then look for the most perfect substitute. Doing research on different sites and stores makes it more likely that it’s not just a knee-jerk purchase.

I felt OK when I bought a new adorable little swingy dress to wear on a date at a rock club show because it was on sale at an independent local shop that’s been in my community forever. I was contributing to the economy! And before I hung it up, I jettisoned two dresses that didn’t work for me.

Does not meeting my challenge make it a total failure? I don’t think so.

The whole point was to be more aware of the money I spent, the clutter I created and making sure I wasn’t missing out on fashion choices I already own because I simply have too much stuff. It also reminded me that rigid tests and rules we create for ourselves don’t always allow any growth or compromise.

My style has not dramatically changed since I made that resolution, but my body and the color and style of my hair have. It’s still possible to be responsible and neater without denying a well-placed goodie that would look amazing on me.

Or really good with a pink petal jacket.