In July 2017 I made a decision not to buy any new clothes for a whole year. I didn't think it through before making the announcement. I didn't check to see if I had all the basics or buy a few wardrobe essentials in advance. I simply read this article about fashion production and textile waste and immediately typed my Facebook post. I figured that making it public would hold me accountable, and I didn't want to change my mind.
I knew it was going to be a challenge, especially around special occasions, however I was optimistic. I felt I had a lot of clothes, though none of them were particularly coordinated and certainly none of them high quality (if they weren't H&M then they were Oxfam.) I said to myself, wouldn't it be fabulous to use my creative flair and customisation skills to use my clothes in a whole new way? I was excited.
Turns out, my excitement was not only naïve but very ill-informed. I was certainly not expecting the negative (and positive) effects that not buying new clothes would involve.
Positives:
- I was completely relieved of the act of buying new clothes
- no stopping at the shops while waiting for the train
- no spending money
- no obligation to make space in the wardrobe for new items
- no guilt about sporting a new item
- no stress about making a new item of clothing work with something I already own
- I began to understand that I'd been living with a low level anxiety about clothes, money and clutter, always feeling a strong compulsion to shop, renew, keep up
As birthdays, weekend breaks and anniversaries approached, I was reassured by knowing that I had at least one nice skirt and one fancy top which I could jazz up with a sparkly necklace.
At the same time I was applying some wisdom (read: Marie Kondo's Spark Joy) on minimalism to reduce the unnecessary clutter in all other areas of my life too.
In not buying new clothes, I didn't feel like buying new anything: no new tea towels, books, makeup, candle holders, Tupperware dishes – nothing seemed important anymore. Everything seemed superfluous and privileged. I began to feel disdain for all things new and indulgent.
Before I decided not to buy new clothes, I was already decluttering regularly by giving away one item per day, which in practice means filling a bag a bag for charity and donating it at the end of the week. Sometimes this may be seven items, often more. I recommend this method, as it will probably have the same effect on you as it did on me: you begin to view your possessions differently. Your attachment to them weakens and as a result you begin to feel more free.
 |
| excerpt from Marie Kondo's Spark Joy |
And so I began to feel less attached to the clothes I still had. Even though I was not replenishing my wardrobe, there were still plenty of items I was not going to wear under any circumstances. Before I made this decision, I had just been given many second hand clothes from people who know I'm a vintage junkie, and although they were nice quality and pretty, I knew I would never reach for them. So out they went.
I had lost weight too (I became a vegetarian around the same time, more on that later), and so I was able to part with some clothes I'd been keeping just in case. Clothes which had been washed too many times went out, as did clothes which did not align with my new “minimal” personality, clothes requiring shoes to match the look for example, or clothes which were not, and maybe never had been, comfortable. Out, out, out!
During the summer I was very warm! I had only one t-shirt to my name, the one I use for sport (alas one is enough), and I was wearing the soft sweaters I enjoyed because they were comfortable. However they were long-sleeved and drab in colour. I also spent the summer in ankle boots. Maybe I had already taken the concept a bit too far, but I was comfy and had righteousness on my side.
The first crack appeared in later September when I spotted this cute little skirt in a charity shop.
My partner paid for it, and because it was second hand I felt able to justify it. I felt bad though, as if I'd “broken”. Then at the end of October, I felt slightly embarrassed by my handbag, thinking it was too summery for rainy days. That lead to my buying a new handbag online. (This strap of this new handbag broke within a few weeks and now I'm back using the summery one. Perfectly serviceable as you see.)
By now, I'd been using and reusing my clothes for five months. My favourite clothes were wearing out, fading and misshapen. The negative aspects of not renewing my wardrobe were becoming very evident:
- my clothes were drab
- my cheap fast-fashion clothes were wearing out ever more quickly
- I felt unable to express myself or show creativity
- I wasn't able to dress warmly enough now that winter was approaching
- I felt I was beginning to look dowdy
- I was beginning to care less about how I looked. I wasn't going to the hairdresser's or even the dentist
- I felt invisible
- I stopped wanting to go out because I had “nothing to wear” which for a woman usually means nothing “new” to wear
- I felt older
I even began to feel that my general lack of newness was having a negative effect on my business, and so I began to look out for new clothes that I would be feel worthy of “breaking” for. Turns out, this wasn't so easy. When your whole wardrobe need a rethink, where do you start?
In not buying any new clothes, here are some of the lessons I learned:
- we have enough. Even if we discarded half the goods you own, we'd still have so much
- no one really notices what you are wearing
- poverty affects more than food and shelter. Self-esteem is born from our ability to express and make choices
- our society has a massive effect on us, whether we are conscious of it or not
- you can give too much away. I was looking for a book to read, even a book to re-read, but I realised I didn't have a single novel in the house
- it's very difficult to buy good quality clothes these days. It seems that fashion is fast, no matter what the brand
- starting a wardrobe from scratch is pricey! Probably better to maintain
- when you're options are limited, you become more discerning in your choices
I would love you to try giving up not buying new clothes for a period of time, even for one month, and then hear all about your experience. I'm back to buying new clothes again, but I confess there isn't the same pleasure in it for me. I aware of everything – from how long it will (won't) last, where I'm going to put it when I get home, which item I'll throw out in its place, how much I'm spending, what emotional need is it serving, who am I buying it for – me or those watching me?
I feel so privileged to have had this experience, and I'll certainly continue to be observant in my habits. I think I might try one month on, one month off, or buy seasonally. We'll see. Watch this space!
