Hi! Welcome to the first installment of Mole Digs.

This is the new home organization/interior design vertical of the Molehill. The impetus came from my most common reader request: can we get a closet tour?!

My answer has always been that I want to!!!…but I’m actually not a very organized person. My passion is acquiring and styling vintage clothes. But hanging them up and folding them? Ughhhhhhhhhhh. I revert into a teenager, all eye-rolls and exasperated mutters.

So for most of my adult life, my organization “method” looks like this: I wait until I’m completely overstimulated by my clothing piles and loose heels jangling around in storage bins. Once I’m fed up with my mess, I lock in and rage clean.

This summer, however, I was bit by the closet organization bug. There was no particular reason, I think it slowly built up over time. I had saved a bunch of inspo from Pinterest and decided, why not tackle something super doable? Like, start with one project that is low-lift, low-cost, and does not require a drill—though, we can explore that down the line.

At the age of 31, I’ve come to accept that some habits are fully baked in forever. Being a little cluttered is a part of my personality, and I’m not looking to change who I am.

I’d even venture to say that all the truest vintage aficionados have a special relationship with mess; we understand it can be alchemized into something beautiful, rather than something to be “fixed.” It’s the reason why we’re so good at rummaging through racks of old clothes and seeing potential in the things others might overlook.

Mole Digs is not about the pursuit of a pristine home or a 20-piece capsule wardrobe on a Japandi birch rack. It’s about the journey of applying creative and resourceful approaches to design and organization, for the person whose Everything Chair runneth over with $70 vintage Coach bags with a busted zipper and faded Levi’s with a raw hem you cut yourself. And tufts on pet hair on everything.

For the inaugural post, I wanted to tackle SHOES.

Shoes are just so damn easy to accumulate, especially when you are a fiend for vintage heels. You know what I’m talking about. Once you fall down one designer rabbit hole—Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik, Moschino, yada yada—well, those shoes never come into your home as only children for long. You end up with a whole litter.

My obsession is 90s/2000s Prada and Miu Miu shoes. They’re not shoes I reach for everyday, most of them are heels or mules or something delicate and impractical for daily wear. I’ve never had a great storage solution for them…here’s what I’ve tried and the specific gripe I had:

• Displayed loose on a shoe rack. Love showing them off and looking at them, but they collected dust and older styles were prone to damage from fluctuating moisture levels or color fading from sun exposure.

• Stowed in boxes. Stacked in a corner of my closet that was out of sight out of mind. I’d forget I owned them, or forget where they were.

That’s why I was so convinced by this shoe storage system I found on Pinterest.

The general concept is to store your shoe collection like an archive. The shoes live in their boxes (to protect against wear and damage), and they are visually labeled with grainy Polaroid shots taped to the front. This way, you know exactly what’s inside each box, and you get to enjoy a photo of the shoe.

It also got me thinking about a recent visit to the GAP HQ archive this summer, where old magazines and catalogs were stowed in archival-grade boxes and handled with white gloves. While my philosophy is that a closet should be alive and used, rather than treated as a precious museum, I think we can borrow some of the organizational methods of archives to our everyday wardrobes. Stuff like handwritten labels, ample shelving, chronologically ordered materials.

Over the weekend, I managed to catalog and store ~20 pairs of shoes using this system. Here’s how I did it, and all the creative design tips I learned along the way.

Supply List:

• Fujifilm Instax Camera (or something similar that instantly develops the photo)

• Double-sided tape

• Nice shoeboxes (I mean, any shoebox will work, but I do think that you’ll be happier with the look and feel of a well-constructed box over a flimsy one).

That’s it! For me, the biggest cost was the film for the camera.

Shoot the shoes on colored backgrounds.

At first, I did some test shots with the shoes on the hardwood floor or with a white wall as the background. That’s fine, but as a color-lover, things got way more fun when I started using bright shopping bags under the shoes for some chromatic contrast.

This is especially true for white shoes, like these 1999 Miu Miu floral mesh mules.

For shoes with a distinct side profile, do a horizontal single shoe shot.

Here are my Simon Miller platform bubble sole clogs in Marge Simpson blue. These are such a pandemic era fashion item to me. They are not timeless and I love that. I forgot I had these, and this organization process reminded me I ought to wear them while my ankles are still relatively stable. One wobble and it’s over…

An effective photo is simply one where you can identify the shoe. Maybe you don’t need the whole shoe in frame, just a sliver, or a cleft…

Like my Margiela Tabis. All you need is the toe slit in frame.

Play with photo orientation and negative space on the shoebox.

Mix up the way you place the photo on the shoebox. Sometimes it looks better in the middle (and the white trim pops against a dark colored box). There’s no Dewey Decimal system here, you can do whatever you want.

Other times, it feels more natural to have it tucked in a corner. When you zoom out, it’s these little irregularities that give it charm and make it feel personal to you.

Organize your stacks by shoe box size.

I learned a lot about standard shoebox sizes when I started stacking them in my open shelving unit. Obviously the lines don’t have to perfectly match up, but it does require some Tetris to make sure the stacks are stable and stand on their own.

Include sentimental notes and memories about the shoes inside its box.

Store handwritten notes inside with stories about these shoes: how they came into your life, where you wore them, were they a depressive episode retail therapy purchase you never actually wore, were they a present from someone you love or hate!!

If you decide to try this system out yourself, I’d love to see your process + final results photos in the chat :) It gives me such a dopamine hit.

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xo viv

Thanks for being here. You can find me on IG and TT. My wardrobe recs and latest finds are saved here—unless it’s vintage, of course ;) I may earn commission on purchases made through affiliate links.

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