When I first started this blog, I had imagined this in my mind to primarily be a public diary of outfits — a la classic internet girl fashion blog. But every time I sat down to write, I’d end up talking about my feelings (lame) instead of clothes (fun!)
I think this is partly due to the fact that lately, I’ve been feeling rather uninspired by clothes. Most days I wake up put on some variation of the following 3 uniforms:
1/ straight leg jeans, striped button up under a thick sweater, loafers, men’s wool coat
2/ pleated skirt, blazer, lug sole shoes
3/ black turtleneck, black denim, player’s choice on shoes
It makes me feel rather holmesian (elizabeth not sherlock) to wear a uniform, but there’s something nice about not having to think about what I’m wearing while still knowing that I feel like myself in my clothes.
The other factor contributing to my sartorial fast is more tactical — I’m trying to be more fiscally responsible. With moving I’ve realized that I have so. many. clothes. And while in 99% of my life I feel little emotional attachment to getting rid of things I don’t use, for some reason there is this visceral bond to specific pieces I own that makes letting them go, especially taxing. And as I’m sitting here editing this, I'm staring at 3 boxes of clothes that I don’t wear but can’t bear to let go of.
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Rachel Tashjian’s piece in harper’s on mindful fashion is one that I return to every few months as a primer on how to be a better shopper. She talks about how when we close our eyes and picture the perfect shopping experience, we conjure up the fantasy of finding the item of that is nothing short of sublime, an exquisite pair of boots in Tashjian’s case, and as they are being wrapped in expensive tissue paper and tucked a luxury box, we glide our credit cards across the little machine and our lives are changed.
As hyperbolic as that sounds, mentally there are so many times that I hyperfixate on an item, search for it mindlessly, scroll for that specific item on the brand’s instagram — I always think to myself, once I acquire that cropped vintage leather jacket my staple wardrobe will finally, finally be complete.
Of course, the second I cut off the tags and the return window closes, it becomes just another thing that lives in my closet.
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Yesterday, I finally finished reading “the mountain is you” — part of my ongoing process of learning about how to listen to myself better. One of the most interesting chapters was the one on dopamine and how we’re biologically wired to always be in want: for that promotion to manager, for that guy from the party last weekend to text us back, but when we get it, it never fully satisfies us. Instead, we want more.
There have been so many times in my life where I’ve wanted something so badly, hoped for it, got down on my knees and prayed for it, only to get it and feel nothing different. In fact, a lot of the time after I obtain the object of my desire, I start questioning why I even wanted that thing in the first place. If that THING is so desirable to me and so aspirational, then how did I of all people, even get it? And doesn’t that mean it’s not that cool or impressive or special? Soon, my little rat brain starts to look at that next formidable milestone as the “next” “big” “thing”.
I saw this tiktok the other day about what happens when life starts to "get good", because at some point it will. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life in want, but I’ve never stopped to think what happens if I actually get there.
I’m learning that if we’re not ready for life to get good, when good fortunes finally come, we’ll start to self sabotage. I see this in myself a lot when I cling tightly to the things that I’ve accomplished and tie so much of my self validation to these brand names. If that prestigious job/school/club thinks I’m ok, then I must be ok.
In order to open ourselves up for good things to come, we have to shift our minds to feeling comfortable and open to “having”. This means feeling deserving of good things as they come to us and practicing non-attachment to the things we desire to make room for growth. This applies to clothes as much as it applies to life. To be a more mindful shopper, we need to better appreciate the things we have but also understand the unrealistic expectations we place on items we covet. Knowing that at the end of the day we’re still the same underneath, we should be willing to let things come and go.
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Last fall, I had absolutely lusted after a pair of proenza schouler loafers that I genuinely believed would change my life. I had texted them to everyone I knew, incessantly and compulsively, that I’m surprised no one told me to shut up and just buy them.
Eventually I did during the SSENSE sale after months of (what my mother refers to in mandarin as) needless nail biting and foot stomping. Even though I am admittedly very proud of the cost per wear I’m getting out of those shoes, my life is not suddenly elevated, and even worse, not a single person has said anything to me about the shoes :'). But I’m practicing the idea of being grateful and happy that I own them now so that when the day comes, I’ll say thank you, dear shoes, for taking care of me, and let them go.
Found this article that was hyperlinked to your latest post, and this discourse is exactly what I was looking for when it comes to healing my relationship with spending and desire. The Mountain is You is next on my to-read list now!