One day, without clients or appointments or commitments, I took to my summer wardrobe, ready to move away from summer pastels to fall hues. My weight seems to have stabilized recently, no longer needing regular pants and bigger pants sections required. From my bed, leaning on my left, my shopping cart was filled with clothes on sale, on sale, sale again. Rarely leaving my house, I never wore all of my purchases from last winter while my body began its deep recovery, From pants to sets to sweaters, everything fits so well with rich patterns and fabrics. I wanted to feel and be well enough to wear these items somewhere. Each piece fit my tall frame with ease I craved as a high schooler.
I’ve reached a moment of radical honesty with myself. My dopamine addiction of choice is clothing. Cute tops, perfectly washed denim, sweaters that all look identical until they’re in my closet. In my closet transition, I mentally felt devoted to my own closet, ready to stop adding things after my 49th birthday for an entire year. This is harder than most anything for me.
Outfits have made me feel less than and on top of the world. Now, I get that from my confidence without a $400 dress or $300 pair of jeans.
*I should note, no one thinks I can do this which makes me want to do this even more.
In high school I wore men’s pants because I was so tall and the 80s-90s retailers hadn’t seen the need to make the inverted version of the petite section. Doing my best to fit in, I shopped to feel good about myself. Rarely wearing special outfits twice, the rush of ripping a tag off was hard to replace.
Clothing has always been my way of feeling like I fit somewhere like work, presenting and out and about in the big city. Scarcity creates needs under the surface. It shapes habits you don’t question until you slow down and look directly at them. From custom suits to new wedding attire to member guest dresses, I crave the newness I did not get as a teen.
Challenging me to move or workout isn’t difficult, but asking me not to wear the newest label, trend or color will be a true test of my willpower. I want to know myself without the noise of a new outfit telling me who to be.
My hypothesis is that I will move towards less, more classic designs in the future with longer lasting power. There is a difference between wanting to look good and needing something new to feel good. At this stage of my life I want to uncouple the two.
Has anyone else tried this? I am curious how it shifted your energy or your habits.
In corporate roles in the early 2000s, power suits and weekly manicures were the uniform. In New York City I heard about personal shoppers, in LA I found a woman who would dig for tall clothing for me at Fred Segal. I chalked it up as feeling good, but it was a way to have an ego boost.
And lately those habits feel like the biggest waste of time. I waste time shopping or thinking about what’s in the mail rather than reading books, reaching out to friends or just being present. Who doesn’t Love the little cortisol spikes every time we scroll, compare, buy, return. Repeat. I already own incredible pieces. Beautiful things. Things I barely wear or wore once.
At my birthday dinner, I officially set my goal to stop the clothing purchases for a full year to see how much time I get back and where I find joy outside of the click to buy.
Environmental. Many other substackers are excited to share OOTD without always buying new things. The fashion cycle is loud and fast. I want my footprint to be quieter. From documentaries to environmentalists on the overflowing skews in every store and constant emails woke me up the the never enoughness.
Financial. Living with a Financial Advisor is rough when the packages come through the front door. We have major goals in the next 3 years and fewer leggings and jeans will help. Less impulsive spending will lead to more intentional choices. If I’m preaching alignment, I want to live it.
Nervous system Health. Stress is everywhere but finding a perfect outfit for the meeting, event or concert should not be part of my to do list. My scroll shopping can be a hit and crash loop. I want steadier energy and fewer internal spikes. Movement is my medicine, not stores.
Enoughness. I already have enough. I want to practice feeling that instead of outsourcing the feeling to a checkout button. Does anyone really know what we wore last week? I am going to test the balance of my friend group.
In the early 20th century, advertisers and corporations targeted women, assuming they were the primary household spenders. Women were cast as the “Chief Consumer” of the household. Marketing campaigns framed women as responsible for purchasing the household food to look like the cover of Julia Child’s cookbooks, more efficient and pretty appliances and the Family’s beauty products to get the perfect 70s bob sprayed to never move. Long before I came into the world, Don Drapers in a tower in the sky set an intentional strategy to keep women shopping and the Economy humming. Women were not only buying things, they were taught to buy the feeling of being a good wife, mother, host, and caretaker.
Is it out of guilt that I leave boutiques without buying anything, definitely. Do I love staying relevant with clothing trends like I still live in a big city, absolutely.
Going cold turkey is tricky but here we are. No one, literally no one but me believes I can do this. I am not punishing myself. I am recalibrating.
Renting an outfit for a wedding or formal event, if needed, unlikely. S
neakers or other sports shoes, if I truly need them. I’ve seen massive injuries with those who don’t reboot their sneakers (pun intended!)
Undergarments and socks because I’m no longer ok with holes in my toes.
My kids are growing and not part of my experiment. This is about my closet.
Everything else is on pause.
I love looking good in a society where sloppiness is queen. Feeling and being pulled together might be easier with what I have than I believe.
Relief over dopamine, presence over dopamine, self confidence over dopamine.
