creating boards to try to illustrate some of what I want to write about here.
But back to the beginning of my story about what caused me to try to pare down my earthly possessions.
I always notice that when I travel I am very, very happy and feel very free. I never check a bag when I travel. Everything I'm taking goes in my carry-on and purse. I once spent a month in Europe, changing cities and countries frequently, with only the contents of a carry-on bag. The funny thing is, I often feel better put-together when I'm traveling than I do at home. And I love every single garment I have with me, so I feel good about what I'm wearing.
I think maybe the contents of my closet and drawers was beginning to drag me down before the recent purge. I had so many clothes I actually forgot I owned some of them. It's kind of fun now to "shop" my own closet and bring things out I haven't worn in a while, or combine them differently; I feel a little more like I do when I travel these days.
Okay, so that guy who owns but fifteen things also intrigued me and made me start to wonder how much I could get rid of myself. If you haven't heard about him, here's a link to his story:
Guy Owns 15 Things
Because of him, I've started to make lists of all kinds of essential things, usually fifteen or twenty things tops on those lists. And I plan to share them here with you. It's not all fashion, but clothes and shoes are indeed the bulk of what I own. I may not own a television, but I do own fifteen pairs of tango shoes!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Friday, July 13, 2012
What the Plastic Garbage Bags Full of Clothes Taught Me
As I went through every single article of clothing I owned these last few months, right down to every pair of socks, I took notes on common themes that destined some articles to be stayed from execution and others to be bagged up for charitable donation.
The "if you haven't worn it for two years, get rid of it" rule probably would have helped me speed through this editing process, but I wanted to do it more thoughtfully and learn from my previous mistakes.
Here's what I learned I should not do when buying clothes in the future:
1. Never buy anything simply because it's on sale and crazily discounted.
2. Never buy anything without trying it on. If it's mail order and it doesn't fit, send it back immediately for exchange or refund.
3. Don't buy multiples of identical or nearly similar items. How many pairs of tailored black pants do I really need? I'm not a waiter and I don't play in a symphony orchestra.
4. Clothes that must be dry cleaned, with the exception of lined, tailored suits, are a NO. I don't wear dry clean only clothes because I know I will have to find the time to take them to the dry cleaners, pick them up, and pay for the cleaning.
5. I will not iron. That's the sad truth. So I cannot buy machine washable clothing that must be ironed. That means button-down shirts and summer linen are a "no" for me, personally.
6. I will never feel comfortable wearing anything with an Empire waistline, or an even lightly raised waistline. It's probably because that silhouette reminds me of maternity dresses. So they're a NO for me.
7. Short sleeves never work out for me. My sleeves either need to be long or non-existent. Anything in between ends up in the donation bag.
8. I will not wear long skirts, so I can't buy anything longer than knee-length. I'm only 5'4" tall, so this means I probably need to buy petites and pass on anything meant to be midi-length on a model. And now I know that I will not wear a skirt shorter than 18 inches, no matter how much I love minis. They're just too, well, anxiety producing for comfort.
9. I will not wear anything poofy or girly. Any kind of full-skirted silhouette is a NO for me.
10. I should never buy this season's "fashion color" unless it's one of the colors I already wear because I look good in it.
11. No gold buttons. They look old.
12. No elastic waistbands. Elastic anywhere is probably a bad idea.
Here's what I learned I SHOULD remember in the future when buying clothes:
1. Stay with body-conscious cuts like wrap dresses and faux wrap dresses. The classic Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress is still the very best silhouette for me. Some blouson cuts, if tight in the hips, also work for me. Tailored suits work on me.
2. Keep the hems knee-length or slightly above.
3. Buy high end classic items on sale. None of the high quality, lined pencil skirts I bought on sale ended up on the chopping block, nor the cashmere cardigans.
4. Dresses work out better for me than separates. I don't like spending time coordinating three pieces. That's probably why I don't often wear pants.
5. The wildest pieces, the unique ones, the crazy ones, are the pieces in my closet that I love most and wear the most often. It's the conservative pieces that don't get much play. So for me, a pair of leopard high heels is not an irrational decision; a pair of simple black pumps? Perhaps not a good decision. Brightly colored clashing prints Desigual dress? Yes! Audrey Hepburn little black dress? Not so much.
6. Cheap, disposable clothes are a bad idea for me. I need to stay out of H&M, Forever 21, Old Navy and Target. File under "Easy come, easy go." I tend to buy t-shirts, tanks, racerbacks, etc., at the cheap stores. I need to buy that stuff at American Apparel and J. Crew because their colors are great and their stuff lasts for years. I kept racerback tanks that are a decade old in this cull.
7. Crazy shoes with high heels, platforms, booties get a lot of play since I tend toward really minimal, body-conscious cuts with my clothes. Trendy shoes are not a mistake for me. I actually wear them! It's the sensible shoes I don't wear.
8. Uniform patterns work for me: small polka dots, precise stripes. Mushy prints, particularly florals, don't. And I seem to love paisley. Nothing paisley got edited.
9. Ethnic prints (batik, ikat) work for me.
10. Small cross-body purses and hobo shoulder bags work for me. Handbags do not.
I wrote all my "no" rules down and from here on out, I'm not buying anything on the "don't do it" list. No matter how tempting it is and no matter how steep the mark-down, I'm not buying it. And if it doesn't appear on my "essentials" lists, I'm going to resist the impulse to buy it, unless it's planned obsolescence/replacement.
The "if you haven't worn it for two years, get rid of it" rule probably would have helped me speed through this editing process, but I wanted to do it more thoughtfully and learn from my previous mistakes.
Here's what I learned I should not do when buying clothes in the future:
1. Never buy anything simply because it's on sale and crazily discounted.
2. Never buy anything without trying it on. If it's mail order and it doesn't fit, send it back immediately for exchange or refund.
3. Don't buy multiples of identical or nearly similar items. How many pairs of tailored black pants do I really need? I'm not a waiter and I don't play in a symphony orchestra.
4. Clothes that must be dry cleaned, with the exception of lined, tailored suits, are a NO. I don't wear dry clean only clothes because I know I will have to find the time to take them to the dry cleaners, pick them up, and pay for the cleaning.
5. I will not iron. That's the sad truth. So I cannot buy machine washable clothing that must be ironed. That means button-down shirts and summer linen are a "no" for me, personally.
6. I will never feel comfortable wearing anything with an Empire waistline, or an even lightly raised waistline. It's probably because that silhouette reminds me of maternity dresses. So they're a NO for me.
7. Short sleeves never work out for me. My sleeves either need to be long or non-existent. Anything in between ends up in the donation bag.
8. I will not wear long skirts, so I can't buy anything longer than knee-length. I'm only 5'4" tall, so this means I probably need to buy petites and pass on anything meant to be midi-length on a model. And now I know that I will not wear a skirt shorter than 18 inches, no matter how much I love minis. They're just too, well, anxiety producing for comfort.
9. I will not wear anything poofy or girly. Any kind of full-skirted silhouette is a NO for me.
10. I should never buy this season's "fashion color" unless it's one of the colors I already wear because I look good in it.
11. No gold buttons. They look old.
12. No elastic waistbands. Elastic anywhere is probably a bad idea.
Here's what I learned I SHOULD remember in the future when buying clothes:
1. Stay with body-conscious cuts like wrap dresses and faux wrap dresses. The classic Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress is still the very best silhouette for me. Some blouson cuts, if tight in the hips, also work for me. Tailored suits work on me.
2. Keep the hems knee-length or slightly above.
3. Buy high end classic items on sale. None of the high quality, lined pencil skirts I bought on sale ended up on the chopping block, nor the cashmere cardigans.
4. Dresses work out better for me than separates. I don't like spending time coordinating three pieces. That's probably why I don't often wear pants.
5. The wildest pieces, the unique ones, the crazy ones, are the pieces in my closet that I love most and wear the most often. It's the conservative pieces that don't get much play. So for me, a pair of leopard high heels is not an irrational decision; a pair of simple black pumps? Perhaps not a good decision. Brightly colored clashing prints Desigual dress? Yes! Audrey Hepburn little black dress? Not so much.
6. Cheap, disposable clothes are a bad idea for me. I need to stay out of H&M, Forever 21, Old Navy and Target. File under "Easy come, easy go." I tend to buy t-shirts, tanks, racerbacks, etc., at the cheap stores. I need to buy that stuff at American Apparel and J. Crew because their colors are great and their stuff lasts for years. I kept racerback tanks that are a decade old in this cull.
7. Crazy shoes with high heels, platforms, booties get a lot of play since I tend toward really minimal, body-conscious cuts with my clothes. Trendy shoes are not a mistake for me. I actually wear them! It's the sensible shoes I don't wear.
8. Uniform patterns work for me: small polka dots, precise stripes. Mushy prints, particularly florals, don't. And I seem to love paisley. Nothing paisley got edited.
9. Ethnic prints (batik, ikat) work for me.
10. Small cross-body purses and hobo shoulder bags work for me. Handbags do not.
I wrote all my "no" rules down and from here on out, I'm not buying anything on the "don't do it" list. No matter how tempting it is and no matter how steep the mark-down, I'm not buying it. And if it doesn't appear on my "essentials" lists, I'm going to resist the impulse to buy it, unless it's planned obsolescence/replacement.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Okay, let's get started.
I've come back and forth here for a month, trying to make peace with the visual format. Until I do that, I can't really start posting. That's the nature of my problem. Basta! Let's just go now.
It was last winter, probably a little after Thanksgiving, when I noticed at Target that people were buying boxes to wrap Christmas presents in and plastic bins for storing gift wrap and door wreaths and holiday lights and decorations. It made me a little sick. I thought, Americans must be the only people on the planet who actually have to buy containers to store all their stuff in. Why does everyone here have so much stuff? Why are people always in Target buying even more cheap, disposable stuff?
Then I started to think about my own buying habits and consumption since I was so quick to judge others.
Since childhood I've had a weakness for beautiful things. What's saved me from owning most of them is money. I don't covet things it's impossible for me to acquire and I simply admire those things from afar. Things I can afford to buy are my problem -- and the pesky fact that I want to store everything that can't be displayed in equally beautiful, elegant and functional ways. I try not to buy stuff that has to be stored. If I can't use it all the time, why should I buy it in the first place?
Which brings us to my problem with clothes. And shoes. And lingerie. And jewelry. While I may be able to resist cheap tchotchkes, I have much less luck resisting a pair of killer four-inch heel platform peep-toe booties from Italy. Or a wax-batik sarong from Bali. Or a Kuchi necklace. Or an exquisite Hermès scarf.
Over my winter holiday break I decided to start going through every closet and drawer, scrutinizing every single object I own and deciding if it was staying or going, if I needed it or could live without it. I decided to figure out what objects and belongings are, for me, essential. I decided to figure out once and for all what was wrong with all the things I was ridding myself of in this project. I did the post mortem on all the bags of stuff destined to be dropped off for donation at Goodwill. What I want to write about here in this blog is what I learned from this process, which has ended up taking me nearly six months to complete. I have a notebook full of lists now. I have been consciously tracking every purchase I make and no longer buying things that are not on my essential list. I'll share what I've observed and what I've learned here.
It was last winter, probably a little after Thanksgiving, when I noticed at Target that people were buying boxes to wrap Christmas presents in and plastic bins for storing gift wrap and door wreaths and holiday lights and decorations. It made me a little sick. I thought, Americans must be the only people on the planet who actually have to buy containers to store all their stuff in. Why does everyone here have so much stuff? Why are people always in Target buying even more cheap, disposable stuff?
Then I started to think about my own buying habits and consumption since I was so quick to judge others.
Since childhood I've had a weakness for beautiful things. What's saved me from owning most of them is money. I don't covet things it's impossible for me to acquire and I simply admire those things from afar. Things I can afford to buy are my problem -- and the pesky fact that I want to store everything that can't be displayed in equally beautiful, elegant and functional ways. I try not to buy stuff that has to be stored. If I can't use it all the time, why should I buy it in the first place?
Which brings us to my problem with clothes. And shoes. And lingerie. And jewelry. While I may be able to resist cheap tchotchkes, I have much less luck resisting a pair of killer four-inch heel platform peep-toe booties from Italy. Or a wax-batik sarong from Bali. Or a Kuchi necklace. Or an exquisite Hermès scarf.
Over my winter holiday break I decided to start going through every closet and drawer, scrutinizing every single object I own and deciding if it was staying or going, if I needed it or could live without it. I decided to figure out what objects and belongings are, for me, essential. I decided to figure out once and for all what was wrong with all the things I was ridding myself of in this project. I did the post mortem on all the bags of stuff destined to be dropped off for donation at Goodwill. What I want to write about here in this blog is what I learned from this process, which has ended up taking me nearly six months to complete. I have a notebook full of lists now. I have been consciously tracking every purchase I make and no longer buying things that are not on my essential list. I'll share what I've observed and what I've learned here.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Testing. Testing. Testing.
What I wanted to write about in this blog: simplicity. Elegant aesthetic choices. Economical visual solutions.
And it starts now, in that I must immediately begin making the kinds of choices that cause me constant mental conflict just to set up this blog. All the visual and aesthetic issues that confront me constantly and that inform my daily lifestyle are now right in my face. Blog template? Typography? Colors?
Having to make these complex decisions -- which, for me are philosophical and not simply visual -- is not an easy thing.
And so it begins.
And it starts now, in that I must immediately begin making the kinds of choices that cause me constant mental conflict just to set up this blog. All the visual and aesthetic issues that confront me constantly and that inform my daily lifestyle are now right in my face. Blog template? Typography? Colors?
Having to make these complex decisions -- which, for me are philosophical and not simply visual -- is not an easy thing.
And so it begins.
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