Wardrobe detox reaps big rewards
Spring clean your closet without regrets, writes fashion editor Carolyn Asome.
I knew I’d hit a low point when, confused by mountains of clothing, I managed to buy the same top twice (and we’re not talking about a T-shirt from Gap). Research suggests most women only wear one tenth of what they own. Before you suppress an eye roll, this isn’t another bossy fashion article beseeching you to chuck out everything and employ the services of an expensive style consultant.
But there is a lot you can do to stop making foolish fashion purchases — and look better dressed in the process. I know, because 10 years ago, I purged my wardrobe and it changed my life immeasurably.
My clothes, shoes and accessories now fit into six smallish drawers, a monastic ( by fashion editor standards), two sets of rods and three shoe racks. Shoes are kept on display — all the better to see what I own, as well as ensuring that I don’t succumb to two dozen pairs of heels better suited to an alternative, er, fantasy lifestyle. Oh, and I’m down to seven handbags: four smallish, classic day bags, two cartaround-everything totes and an evening clutch.
Getting dressed in the morning is no longer a half-hour struggle despairing that I have “no clothes.” I can see what’s in my closet and, consequently, any “gaps.” There’s a lot less, but it’s an edited, super slick curation of things I really love.
Everything was subjected to the questions: did it fit properly and did I feel good wearing it? The overlying stipulation was that I had to really love each piece — and it had to give me the sartorial equivalent of a good hair day. That’s quite a lot to ask from a skirt, but I knew I was always going to find something I would want and feel happy wearing.
It was simple, kindergartenish sounding criteria made up entirely by me but it worked. Clothes that hadn’t been worn for three years, no matter how much sentimental value/wonderful looking/expensive/oneoff/designer-y, were donated to charity or sold through a dress agency.
Anything that didn’t fit properly and couldn’t be remedied by a seamstress was discarded. As for those “fashion heirlooms” I’d been stashing in the event of having a daughter? I got over myself and got rid of those too. (For the record, I’ve since given birth to two daughters, and still don’t regret it.)
Being seven months pregnant and not being able to wear nearly all my wardrobe (not to mention, happily wearing the same four great outfits for the past two trimesters), has also given me fresh perspective on how much I wanted of what was in there. For every one item that I’ve slightly regretted getting rid of, there are probably 30 things I don’t miss.
Of course my husband points out this is hardly a challenge for a fashion editor who, for many years while working on a newspaper, was privy to advance notice of sample sales and “gifted” the odd bag.
Except I’m inclined to agree with most of the stylish women I know, that too much choice clouds your judgment.
I’ve since concluded that reluctance to undergo a wardrobe detox is actually the fear of ending up with too few clothes. In our consumer-crazed society, we often choose quantity over quality.
So what are you waiting for? Get culling. You’ll be surprised, you’ll be constantly torn, but once you’ve started, I guarantee it will be hard to stop, so cathartic is the satisfaction from seeing a clearer closet. If nothing else, you’re going to learn something about yourself.