Admitting you have too many ties is surprisingly difficult. There’s something to be said for finding the exact right tie when you need it, and as long as that dream exists then the ties will remain. There’s often a story behind a tie, it might be inherited or acquired in some remote country, you might have won it in a game of poker. But there’s also something unsettling about wondering why you’re bidding on a fifth Barbour jacket (even if would be perfect for salmon fishing). At least it’s unsettling if you live in an apartment with one closet, as I do. One friend refers to his extended wardrobe as The Archive (looking at you Matt Hranek!) and that does have an official aura. It’s as if you don’t have control of what you’re doing, it’s for The Archive. If I don’t buy this trench coat the historical significance The Archive will be diminished.

I thought of all this as I stared at what might be called The Coggins Tie Archive. Ties that were once loved but have been forgotten, like second-season episodes of Mad Men. Yes I love the Drapers, but am I going back to watch Don come up with yet another pitch? There are new shows to watch and new ties to wear. Sometimes a tie has had its day in the sartorial sun. Though a beloved tie might simply be re-worn again and again (I have a theory that 10% of ties are worn 90% of the time).

Mind you, these ties doesn’t represent some wide-ranging spectrum of color, like a gangster’s wardrobe in a Scorsese picture. These are narrowly focused—what the kids call Earth Tones. Not uplifting bright colors, but brown, green, tan, grey. I love these ties. Do I need all of them? You know I don’t! Need doesn’t even enter into the matter. It’s a question of meeting the sartorial moment with the right answer. But really it’s a question of possibility. A tie, like an old copy of The New Yorker waiting to be read, represents what you want to wear, a version of yourself you want to be. That’s why people have stacks of New Yorkers, and lots of ties.

Ties are good to acquire since a change in tie, like a scarf or a pocket square, can change the sartorial equation. If I told you I don’t have that many clothes you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. Mostly. I keep ties around that I haven’t worn in years, hoping the exact moment will come and they will be called upon. Sometimes that happens—blessed day!—but most of the time if something is usually the third choice then the third choice it remains, like a difficult foreign film that’s been locked at the bottom of your Netflix queue for years. I have books (usually heavy hardcover biographies) that I’ve been “about to read” for the last decade. I have to admit that I may not learn about the early years of Willem de Kooning.

So I sold some ties. Yes, it was hard to do. I used to give them away to friends, that was too slow and specific. Then finally I just unloaded a lot. I still have…many. More than many. Many many. But definitely not too many. The occasional consolidation can be a good thing. Old copies of Paris Review are gone (enjoy them Matt Woodruff!), and I’m finally getting rid of CDs (sorry Afghan Whigs!). Alright, the fact that CDs are even being discussed means there are some archive issues here in the West Village. But there you have it. I’m not trading in the old for the new, more like the old for a little less of the old. I’ll miss some, I’ll forget others, but there will always be another knit tie.