What I've Learned from my Clothes-Shopping Fast (Six Months In)

Last New Years' Eve, I had a grand idea: what if I refrained from clothes shopping for an entire year?

My dad would roll his eyes at that; he goes shopping once a decade, but I have no such control. Let me give you an example internal dialogue from a typical shopping trip:

Okay, I need to get toilet paper, but first I'll just mosey on over to the -ooh, look at that adorable blouse. It's not the best color in the world, but it's on sale, and if I don't buy it, what if I missed a great price? Okay I'll try it on. Well, it looks okay on me, I'm not sure bright orange is my color, but it's kind of mod and that's in right now, right? It's eight dollars, I may as well get it.

It's kind of a nervous, insecure impulse buy right? This is how my closet became full of clothes I didn't really need or even want. I wanted to value what I already owned and learn invest in quality (and hopefully fair-trade) items when I really needed them. So...

The Challenge

I decided to try living on what I had. My husband and I share two small closets and one bureau, so I knew that might be tough, but it felt right. I set some simple ground rules: (1) no buying new clothes, not even secondhand, (2) no buying accessories or jewelry, new or secondhand, and (3) emergencies buys were okay, but emergencies must actually be emergencies. For example, wanting a new dress for an upcoming wedding= not an emergency. Winter coat being shredded by a direwolf= emergency. (4) Gifts were okay. I mean, what else do you do with gifts?

Here's what the internal dialogue has looked like so far, along with clothing that was gifted, emergency buys, and my one sad slipup:

January:
       Oooooh, look at that skirt! Oh. Right. 
       Wonder what my friends will think of this resolution. Am I really doing this?

February:
      Looks like I'm really doing this. Maybe I'll just look at clothes online and keep them in mind for future reference.

March:
       Man, stores are kind of boring when you can't shop.

*Given a dress and a tee for my bday. Broke down and bought a blouse for my bday. Sadface.

April:
       Sweet... forgot about that outfit. Now I'm going to wear it to eight different interviews and put it to use!

May:
      Oh crap I'm gaining weight. Must not gain weight must fit into current clothes must not gain weight!
       Clothing swaps are a thing?! Why have I been paying actual money for clothes this whole time?

*Traded dresses, blouses, purses, and accessories for two dresses and a tee.

June:
       Man, I am never buying clothes again.
      (insert bra underwire beginning to poke me)
      Except bras.

*Bought four bras, was given several tees when my band played at festivals.


Takeaways so far:

-I don't miss shopping, and even with my tiny closets, I feel like I'm finding clothing that I'd forgotten about. By month three or four, I rarely thought about it.

-I feel much less pressure to buy, and setting limits has given me a chance to step back instead of allowing myself to always be accosted by ads (and my own desires).

-I've spent some time putting the money I would have thoughtlessly spent on clothes into healthier investments, like organic produce, paraben-free toiletries, or nice bras for the tatas.

-Clothing swaps are pretty sweet.

-Gaining weight is not.

Post the First

I’m in the midst of illness, and am bored enough to begin a blog. Perhaps typing paragraph after paragraph about life in South Bend will alleviate my swollen sinuses.

Jon’s got it too- we think it came from spending a weekend playing with our nephew- and every day he says that he’s getting better… until a large sneeze expels the hope from him.

The first day I came down with it was the day my bandmate, Doug, and I had set to record our songs and then to film a few of them for the South Bend Tribune’s “Press Play” series. I lay miserably on Doug’s couch as he made me tea and we analyzed song after song. I love the words he uses to describe sounds.

“Is this too muddy and sponge-y?” He asked as he alternated my track- played on his slightly out-of-tune living room piano- between fuzzy and slightly less fuzzy. I can’t really hear a difference. As usual, I just let him decide as I sip my tea.

Later, we met at the South Bend Tribune headquarters to film. They took us on a questionable elevator (this isn’t saying much; all elevators are questionable to me) and led us through rows of cubicles into the belly of the beast, the printing room. Gigantic machinery and a powerful scent of ink greeted us, as did wall-length windows, showing a depressingly snowy scene of the downtown Burger King. It took awhile to set up the mics and cameras, so Doug and I ran through a few verses to warm up. My sinuses were already blocked, and I hesitantly held back my voice, hoping it wouldn’t crack. It did. I tried singing as loudly as I could, and this gave me much more control, though I’m not sure why.

I think the set went well, but I won’t know for sure until the songs are posted on the newspaper’s website. I’m afraid I wasn’t very polite- as soon as the filming was over, I packed up to leave while Doug chatted up the producers with smiles and laughs.

I love that South Bend is transforming their music scene with things like The Pool, SxSB, the new busking law, and Press Play. This town has so much potential- not just for music, but for tech innovation, artists, small businesses, and a sustainable future. It almost makes the winter worth it.