nothing new #3: this is not my first rodeo
I have stopped buying clothes before - short stories
Day 32/365 of no shopping.
This is not my first rodeo. I have stopped shopping before, but not for longer than a month or two; I just want to preface before I start writing this next post that I have done so much work to repair my relationship with clothes… the calm I feel within me would not have been possible two years ago.
It was the beginning of 2022 when I started to look at how clothes made me feel, initially tracking what I wore and discovering I had a signature style to the tune of new t-shirts, new jeans, new white socks and new white shirts.
A signature style that leant on the newness of my clothes rather than any kind of interest. I had been a street-style photographer for over a decade, dedicating my career to documenting personal style for Vogue and many other commercial and documentary clients. I believed in the power of clothes and had photographed and admired so much of the style around me, yet none had infiltrated what I was wearing.
It was 2018 when I stood in a room full of fashion people. Swimming in a sea of small talk, a very uncomfortable place for me, when I confessed ’I think going to take a month off shopping’ to a then fashion face. A statement that was met with a scathing look of disbelief and confusion. Why would I do that? A look that squashed my confidence and made the ideal curl up deep with me until four years later.
It was March 2022 when I finally took a month off shopping - but pre-loaded with an online order and wrote lists of what I would buy as soon as the 31 days had passed. A complete fail, but a fail that saw me start to write in a journal almost every day for the year following. That journal now has over 378 entries answering countless questions - all to do with my clothes.
It was April 2023 when I started reducing what I was buying with long-term goals. The first 26 items in 12 months were inspired by trying to cut my consumption by half. By July of that year, I knew that my behaviour was changing. I could shop, but I had boundaries, and I really started to care about the process of buying clothes. The result of that challenge was that I purchased 15 items in 9 months, reducing my consumption from the previous year and being excited to reduce it even further.
It was Jan 2024 when I reduced and restarted this goal to 15 items in 12 months but included unlimited vintage. I intend to help build new habits and see second-hand clothes as valuable. A habit that would excite me and help me find some of the most interesting pieces of clothing I now own … but also a habit that saw me wanting more and dedicating time to looking for clothes.
… and now, it’s been 32 days of nothing new. A challenge I started to stop me wanting more.
I’m not sure why this post has been so hard to write. Maybe because my mind is blank, a vast stillness occupying the usual superdrive of overthinking. Or perhaps it’s because these last 32 days have been a non-event. Not hard. Not easy. Just not.
So, in lieu of the perfect nothing new update, I’ll share a few short stories about my clothes.
Last night I went to a party with people I never see. Some old friends, some friends of friends, some strangers. I wore nothing new… black cargos, grey sneakers, a sparkly top that I fished out from the pile of clothes to pack away and a black puffer. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, I bounced around the dance floor with an energy I once had but is now long forgotten. As I commented to my girlfriend and dance floor accomplice that I felt like I was 21, I wondered if it was the freedom of the dark room was due to the music, the company or my old clothes.
Playing the night over in my head, I recount the minimal effort I made to get ready. Racing home after dinner with my extended family, I slipped into my cargos. While transforming my make-up-free face into a more polished version appropriate for someone who looked like they had made an effort, I contemplated two tops. One black, one glow mesh. The sparkles won, and two minutes later, I pulled on my sneakers and shoved my wallet, keys and lipstick into the pockets of my puffer jacket before climbing into an Uber.
That was it - 5 mins - and as I think back to my early 20’s, I realise that’s all it ever was.
This week, I worked as a photographer for a luxury client - a new relationship and, as with all my documentary fashion clients, one I value greatly.
In the past, when I said yes to a job of this calibre, I took the time to ensure I had the perfect outfit, often buying something new as a sign of respect and effort in valuing the relationship. I’m not sure this is totally logical, but I have ritualised it for quite some time.
Unable to shop, I stood in my wardrobe two nights before the event and looked at my clothes. Knowing I could trust the pieces that hung neatly on coat hangers, I started to think of new combinations. The clothes and outfits came together quickly - I’ve been working with a few luxury clients for years and have collected a non-luxury wardrobe that sings the same song.
When I realised I would need a bag to carry my camera batteries and memory cards as I moved throughout the event, I turned to the two most unexpected heroes. A crochet raffia bag brought from Etsy and a creamy wooden beaded bag.
The event went well - ironically, the bags were the most complimented item in my outfit.
During my beach holiday last week, I packed many of my old favourite summer clothes. As I walked through a shopping area full of clothes that seemed better than mine I realised how uncomfortable I had felt in my skin over the last few days. Unable to shop for something to make me feel better, I had to sit with that discomfort. I survived and forgot about it eventually.
My wardrobe clean out is at a standstill. Each morning, as I roll over and lift my eyes to the light streaming in my window, I see a pile of clothes below the sill - untouched, waiting to be organised.
Just because it’s taking a while doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I tell myself on repeat. It’s not out of laziness but an inability to strike a balance between productivity and over-commitment. The truth is I knew this would happen. The distractions and ideas inevitably creep in.
I close my eyes and think I’ll do it tomorrow or maybe this weekend.
In the meantime, I have started to look at the people around me differently.
Asking myself questions about clothing and connection.
Will new clothes ever be the answer?
Or will it be loved clothes, shared clothes, values-based clothes, repaired clothes and second-hand clothes… maybe even broken clothes that will bring us back together?
If so - how quickly can we flip the switch?
*This post is part of a larger body of work that explores Our Relationship With Clothes. Australia is the largest consumer of textiles in the world; we ask questions in the hope of encouraging self-reflection and change.
Your post made me think how our (not that real”) need to “prepare” for major (and minor) events creates so much stress in our lives, so much urgent and stressful shopping which to tell the truth doesn’t always lead to buying something of value…
Just because it’s taking a while doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I tell myself on repeat.
…Liz Sunshine