Last October, after a crazy, compulsive summer, I started to tally what was coming in and out of my closet, hoping that data would help me understand my habits. Using Daytum, I made a notation every time something left my wardrobe and where it went.
This doesn't include purging earlier in the year, nor the plethora of unworn me-mades that have been stashed elsewhere. But if the average American buys 60 items of clothing a year, than I purged more than two years worth of stuff.
In that same time, I gained 23 items. Besides thrifted items, I bought socks and stockings, a pair of boots, and hand-me-downs.
In terms of handmade goods, I sewed nine and knit four things for myself.
Comparatively, I think I did really well: 36 things came in, 128 out. And the numbers aren't perfect, of those 36, several were sewing wadders or bad-thrift-decisions that were re-donated.
Why on earth does this matter?
I think, in a general sense, many women I know struggle with both limiting how much they accrue and letting go. I certainly do. All the while, psychologists tell us that we actually make better choices and feel better about the choices we've made the narrower our options are.
On a more personal level, this represents my growing ability to be selective about what's in my closet. Last year, Colette Patterns asked what our ideal wardrobe would look like. Referring to her own ideal wardrobe, Sarai says, "There wouldn’t be a ton of clothes, just a well edited and lovely selection. If I could sew a brand new ideal wardrobe from scratch, that’s exactly what I would make."
By massively slimming down my closet, I'm getting closer to an edited selection. I gave away cashmere sweaters and silk blouses, vintage dresses and things I bought just the month before. For some reason or another, they just didn't work.
What's left is the 20 percent of things I actually wear, plus a few things I'm trying to make more useful.
| My closet: All my tops, dresses, pants, pullovers and cardigans. My fabric stash above has—eek—43 pieces. |
| With the pants folded away and the non-season items removed. My daily selection. So much easier to deal with. |
For some, this wardrobe will still be abundant. For others, paltry. All I know is this: I feel better.
Most importantly, I'm not filled with guilt about everything I don't wear. The less I have, the easier I can understand what it is I actually like and what I actually need.
Most importantly, I'm not filled with guilt about everything I don't wear. The less I have, the easier I can understand what it is I actually like and what I actually need.
This is the irony of it all: The less I have, the larger the possibilities. I'm discovering new combinations of clothes, repairing the ones I'm committed to, and dreaming of a few lovely pieces that will augment the basic wardrobe I've got. Of all the things I can imagine adding, some will be beautiful and some will be basic, but so help me, they'll all be me.
So this is the first (big) step toward my ideal wardrobe. What does your ideal wardrobe look like?




























