The Day My Hangers Exposed My Money Story

Everyone loves to talk about the big money shifts.

The six-figure breakthroughs.
The “I manifested $50,000 overnight” stories.
The flashy wins.

But here’s the truth no one glamorizes:
sometimes feeling safer, more confident, and more comfortable with money starts with the smallest, most ridiculous things.

Like hangers.

Yes. Hangers.

For years, I’ve had plastic hangers. Matching ones, at least. All white. All black. I even had zero shame about wire hangers when they came back from the dry cleaner, even though Mommie Dearest permanently branded “no more wire hangers” into my subconscious.

And then there are those hangers.
The ones with the pant clips.

Why are they so hard to find?
Why do they feel like rare collectibles?

I never bought them intentionally. I only had the ones that came with clothes I purchased. That’s how I built my collection. Accidentally. One clip hanger at a time.

Now here’s the part that makes this even funnier.

I have a walk-in closet that could literally be a small bedroom. Carrie Bradshaw would approve. So it’s not like I was deprived. Hangers just didn’t matter. Or so I thought.

Until one day, a few weeks ago, they did.

I can’t even tell you what triggered it. One day I just looked around and thought, these hangers are annoying me. Plastic. Slippery. Cheap-looking. Random.

So I did something very simple.
I ordered velvet hangers.

The good ones.
The soft, fuzzy ones.
With gold hooks.

Because obviously.

First I ordered black.
Then cream.
Then blush pink.
Then hot pink.

And then — jackpot — I found the ones with the pant clips. So now I can hang matching sets together like the elegant, organized woman I pretend to be in my head.

Plot twist: they came in a massive pack.
Like 40 hangers.

And what did I do with them?

Nothing.

I left them sitting there. Brand new. Still wrapped.

“I’ll save these for something important,” I told myself.

And that’s where the money lesson lives.

Why would I buy something that makes my everyday life feel more elevated and then hoard it?
Why would I invest in something that makes me feel classy and elegant and then refuse to actually use it?

That’s scarcity.
That’s broke-girl energy hiding behind logic.

That’s the same behavior I see with money all the time.
People who have it, but don’t let it work.
People who save things for later while continuing to live in discomfort now.

So today, on a rainy, quiet holiday, with nowhere to be and no one to impress, I did my laundry and hung up my clothes on those hangers.

And yes, it’s small.
And yes, it felt amazing.

Here’s the next part.

My goal is to get rid of every single plastic hanger in my closet and replace them with these beautiful ones. It’s a big undertaking. I have a lot of clothes. So I’m doing it little by little.

But here’s the key move.

I’m throwing away the plastic hangers.

Not saving them.
Not storing them just in case.
Not hoarding them for some imaginary rainy day.

Because if I keep the old hangers, I’ll keep using them.
And then the new ones just sit there, like unused potential.

How are we supposed to attract money and abundance while surrounding ourselves with cheap, ugly, placeholder energy?

Be honest.
Do you think Beyoncé has plastic Walmart hangers?

No.
She probably has custom, padded, silk-covered hangers for her lingerie alone.

And that’s the point.

Luxury isn’t about the price tag.
It’s about intention.

Even if your outfit is from Shein, who cares?
If it’s hanging on a gorgeous hanger that costs more than the outfit, the energy is different.

It’s the same with sheets.
Have you always wanted satin sheets?
Egyptian cotton?
A goose-down comforter?

And did you stop yourself because “that’s ridiculous, I can get something cheaper”?

Boom.
That’s where scarcity lives.

In 2026, we are not broke-girl energy.
We are intentional.
We are classy.
We are luxurious in the way we live, not just the way we earn.

Money doesn’t respond to desperation.
It responds to self-respect.

So let me ask you:

What’s the one small thing you’ve been denying yourself that would make your everyday life feel richer?

Your coffee?
Your sheets?
Your towels?
Your hangers?

And have you ever bought the nice thing and then saved it instead of using it?

If so, that’s your sign.

Use the hangers.
Sleep on the sheets.
Light the candle.

Stop living like you’re waiting for permission.

Because abundance doesn’t show up in grand gestures first.
It shows up in how you treat your life when no one is watching.