personal wardrobe philosophy

About a month ago there was a feature in The New York Times aboutstyle on college campuses. Of course the majority of the students they featured went to schools in NYC and of course I found most of the article and commentary to be insufferable. This is not, of course, to knock the gals who were featured, but gosh could I help it if the article just felt so stale and pointless when blogs and publications and books are smartly critiquing left and right the unnecessary spending and energy that goes into wardrobe maintenance? Others may disagree, but I think the golden age of street fashion blogs and personal style blogs has come to an end or at least is so saturated that it's hard to stand sometimes. So when these presumably smart women are going on-record to say that, "Getting ready for class is important. Students want to up their game. That means looking a little more serious, not just throwing on a graphic t-shirt and jeans," can you blame me for being disappointed?

This is absolutely not to say that academics and style are inversely proportional. I have no idea what the majors and future career plans of these students are, and don't we all know people who are incredibly brilliant and incredibly beautiful and stylish at the same time? But to define oneself through clothes, and above all through trends and what other people will think rattles me. I think it's the particular focus on keeping up with appearances, and not defining your own style that really irks me. "Some of us like to make an effort when we dress" apparently means buying the right brands and labels, and all of it reeks of snobbery and false sophistication that fuels a consumerist culture that cares more about the now than it does about workmanship and artistry.  

It would be dishonest of me if I did not admit that I'm most certainly a materialist and sometimes there is nothing I like more than surrounding myself with beautiful things. This includes but is not limited to: unwieldy rock and crystal collections, antiquated musical instruments and recording devices that I toy around with sometimes but which are mostly for show, books I buy just because the covers are nice, old luggage that is pointlessly heavy and impractical to buy on ebay due to high shipping costs but that I keep anyways because it reminds me of a bygone era of traveling by trains, and of course, clothes clothes clothes. New clothes, vintage clothes, clothes that once belonged to my mother, clothes that I've made myself. But rather than buying new clothes this year, I'm working on minimizing the number that I already have and coming up with a philosophy that works for me.

In the past three years I have probably already cut my wardrobe in half, and still I think I have more clothes than any one person could (or should) feasibly wear in a year. So during this shopping ban, I am taking a closer look at my clothes and deciding what stays and what goes.

My personal guide for deciding what stays and goes, and what to buy in the future:

Brand and origin

Note to self: an expensive brand does not always mean quality and high manufacturing standards. Nor does it mean hand-made or hand-sewn. So even though I'm always tempted by Alexander Wang, 3.1. Phillip Lim, Acne, and A.P.C., the fact that most of their clothes are made in China or India does not bode well for their chances of making it into my closet. Luckily the pricetag stops me most of the time anyways. Made in the USA doesn't always mean the best either (ahem, American Apparel high-waisted trousers that started ripping at the seams after one wear), but when I see a Filson bag or a vintage Coach bag or a Steven Alan shirt I get the sense that a lot more care went into the making of said items. When I see that my Swedish Hasbeens clogs were “nailed” in Sweden and my Margiela trousers were made in Italy, it makes sense to me that these items were born not far from where the brands are based. Then again my basic J. Crew cardigans have held up to weekly and sometimes daily year-round wear for the past five years and they were made in China. But they are also 100% merino wool, which brings me to...

Material

I have a lot of polyester in my wardrobe. A lot of it comes from Goodwill, and some of it comes from stores like H&M and Urban Outfitters. Because most of it comes from thrifting, a lot of it is hard to let go of. Like the long-sleeve polyester blouses that I want to replace with silk but haven't got the money at the moment to do so. Or all of the great dresses and skirts and acrylic sweaters that wouldn't be the same if they weren't made with synthetics. I can't change the unnaturalness of these items that I already love, but I can make a conscious effort for future purchases. So this means no polyester, no acrylic, no tencel, no rayon, no viscose, no “leatherette.” Cotton, wool, silk, leather and suede. That's it! (I suppose blends are ok, as this 100% rule is really much harder to follow than one would think)

Style and fit

This should be a no brainer but somehow I've spent years buying clothes that are too big or too small, and not in the oversized or crop top sense when it is intentional. I suspect many women do this, and I think it happens to me a lot because of sales. If something is on sale I am tempted to buy it even if it's too big or too small. If it's too big I just think, oh it's oversized and loose and whatever it's fine. If it's too small I just think, oh I'm bound to have one of those months when I lose a few pounds or something and it'll fit then. Wrong wrong wrong. Just say no. I suppose this is where curbing impulse buys really helps, because when you're on a mission to buy something that is just right, you usually only settle for that something that is just right.

Sentimental and personal value

I had no problem selling my prom dress on ebay a few years ago. When it comes to anything that once belonged to my mother, however, it's quite the opposite. This also applies to sweaters my grandmother has knitted for me. While all of these items are amazing, because god knows how long it takes to knit argyle with a gauge that small, I wonder if I need to keep all of them. I have a red cardigan that I wear like crazy, and a green cardigan that I wear sometimes in the winter, and a grey sweater with red stripes in the style of an A.P.C. breton sweater on its way. The rest, like a pair of argyle sweater vests, have remained in my closet for quite some time and the idea of saving them for my future children(???) is somehow absurd. So I'm still conflicted about what to do in this case.

Of course, none of this is set in stone. During this shopping ban I still browse ebay all the time, but remembering the above four things certainly helps me to stop before pulling the trigger on any purchases and breaking my ban. Looking at my old polyvore sets and seeing that my "capsule wardrobe" has not changed that much at all over the past 2 years also helps to remind me that once you find your comfort zone, you really do stick with it.