Congratulations on graduating! Now that it's time for the -- cringe -- real world, it's time to ditch some ancient collegiate relics that got you through the last four years. Grab a trash bag and say goodbye to these not-so-prized possessions STAT:

Your shower flip-flops

Nothing says "I'm an adult" like going barefoot in the shower. Those flip-flops are nasty by now. Buy yourself a fresh pair for the beach this summer and ditch the grimy ones -- for good!

Your shower caddy

You likely won't have the luxury of your own private bathroom straight out of college -- if you do, I simultaneously envy and loathe you -- but cheers to sharing a restroom with far fewer people than you ever had to in the dorm. You can finally leave your razor and shampoo on that teensy shower shelf! Unless, of course, your roommate claims it first. Ugh.

Your twin XL sheets

Even if you're riding the twin bed struggle bus into your early twenties -- I'm right there with ya -- twin XL beds pretty much only exist in college dorms. When your city apartment is so small that you physically cannot fit anything larger than a twin bed into your room, you'll be thankful for the shorter bedframe. Floor space is a precious thing.

Your fracket

Girls, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You have your normal, nice, clean jacket you wear to class and work -- and then you have your fracket. It's the one you bought for dirt cheap at Forever 21. It's the one you grab en route to the campus dive bar, where someone will inevitably spill a beer (or three) on you. It's one you stuff behind stained frat house couches at parties because it's too hot to wear it inside. No amount of machine washing and/or dry cleaning can rid that jacket of the debauchery it's seen and experienced. It's time to move on.

While you're at it, toss your frat shoes, too. You've subjected them to enough torture.

This "Animal House" poster

You're now in postgrad territory. Say goodbye to these signature college posters too.

Any room decorations made of paper, really

The "Welcome to College!" sign your resident advisor hung up on your freshman dorm door. The glittery poster your sorority big taped to your wall during Big Little Week. The signs [insert club name here] made for you when you joined their society/team/whatever.

First you decorated your freshmen room with these signs. Then you dutifully brought them with you when you moved off-campus a few years later. They've adorned your walls for years, but now it's time to leave them behind. If straight-up throwing them out is too painful, roll 'em up and save them for sentimental reasons. Just don't tack them up on the walls of your first apartment out in the big, bad real world. You're starting a new chapter now.

Anything with Greek letters on them

Unless you're working for your former sorority or fraternity, Greek letters have no place outside of universities. By the time you graduate, you've probably accumulated an entire drawer's worth of Greek life memorabilia. But you can't exactly waltz into work in an oversized neon tank top embroidered with your sorority's name.

Throw away the stuff you'll never use or wear again or hand it off to your little. By all means, wear those neon tanks to the gym or to sleep, but only keep the clothes you'll really wear. The same goes for all those t-shirts you got from whatever clubs you joined. There's zero point wasting precious closet space for spirit apparel unless you still frequently wear it.

If you really can't bear to part with everything, turn the shirts into a blanket like these ones.

Your flimsy, half-broken laundry bag

It's a miracle your laundry bag lasted this long, TBH. If there's a wire poking out or a hole somewhere, throw it out and invest in a real hamper for your next home. (Unless you're moving to a city and your future apartment building doesn't have washing machines. Then you're still stuck lugging your dirty undies to the laundromat. Sorry.)

Your textbooks, if you can't sell or donate them

We know, you spent mad money on those books. We know, you feel like you need to save them solely because you dropped so much cash on them. Be honest with yourself: Are you ever gonna crack one of them open again?

If you aren't going to grad school or pursuing a related field, you likely won't. They'll just sit and collect dust in your parents' basement until the end of eternity. Sell or donate those books to other students. If no one will take them, call it a lost cause and get rid of them. Maybe burn them? It could feel cathartic, who knows.