Here, for grins and giggles, is a shot of my closet at the start of the year. I haven't counted discrete items of clothing, but as you see here, from left to right, it's some scarves (maybe kind of a lot of scarves?) on hangers, about five jackets, some button shirts and tees, two skirts, five wool dresses, and a couple of very occasional kimono-type things for when I want to be dressy. Haven't counted the cardigans and sweaters on the top shelf, but there they are. Except for a bin of leggings (about five pairs, I think?) and tights, and a bin of the requisite underwear, this is my whole wardrobe.
I have gradually moved a lot into my outbox. I've come to terms with things that don't fit well or are starting to show so much wear that I really think they're past it. That's a good practice: there's sustainable, but then there's showing up in things that don't serve you, because you can't make yourself let go.
One of Virginia Woolf's New Year's resolutions, in maybe 1931 or something, was to buy good clothes. She didn't resolve simply to buy clothes. She would buy good clothes: the right thing, well made, or not at all. It's a good rule, really, in every way. Why, actually, would you spend money on clothes that weren't the right things --- unless you just had a habit of buying, for the dopamine hit of buying something, and didn't much notice what you bought until you got home and laid it out on the bed, and realized (because maybe you couldn't try it on in the thrift store) that it wouldn't do at all. But now you had it, and the sunk-cost fallacy was kicking in, so you'd be stuck with a lot of stuff that wasn't at all the right thing, but simply what you had to work with.
Yes, I'm describing my own former habits. My no-buy 2022 made me a lot more a) conscious that those were my habits, and b) mindful about not succumbing to those habits. It gave me time to think a lot about what would constitute good clothes for me, not to mention how I'd afford those good clothes. The answer to that last question: buy things selectively secondhand, and make carefully planned larger purchases at intervals.
In January I've decided to focus on what I think of as things around the edges --- not core pieces, like a dress, but the things that make a dress into an outfit. One thing I considered a lot in my no-buy year was that I wanted more warm cardigans, by which I really meant cardigans in wool. I have some already. I have a couple of cashmere cardigans that do heavy duty, plus the alpaca cardigan Marly Youmans talked me into buying in the chichi thrift shop in Highlands, North Carolina, last fall. I'd like gradually to move out the last of my cardigans that aren't in natural fibers, though I'm not in a hurry (and some are still actually useful to me, so I'm not going to discard them in a hurry). But meanwhile, I thought it would be a good first goal in 2023 to build my cardigan collection meaningfully.
So I've done a little Poshmarking. I've bought two 100% merino cardigans, in quite different colors (purple and royal blue) and styles (blazer and cropped v-neck), for excellent prices. I've also bought a J.Jill duster-length linen-blend cardigan that I think will be a perfect top layer in the summer, when I just need something on my shoulders for church, or a longline shape to finish an outfit for a more professional situation. And I've bought a light-blue linen button shirt for another top layer. All secondhand, all in good shape, all at good prices. I have to see what I've got once everything is here, but I'm feeling hopeful that these items will fill some gaps and serve me well for years to come.
Finally, I've gone ahead and purchased my summer sandals, yet another pair of Xero shoes. For some time now I've mourned the loss of a particular pair of Crocs thong sandals, which broke summer before last, and of course are discontinued, and you can't find them anywhere. My husband loved those strappy sandals, and I liked them, too, to wear for all kinds of situations, even rather dressy ones. I have Birkenstocks (albeit really worn!) and a pair of Xero Colorado sport sandals, now discontinued, that I bought at an insane sale price last winter and wear for summer hiking and knocking around. I have a pair of fake Birks that have seen a lot of wear since I impulse-bought them in the spring of 2020 and are looking kind of past it. But I really wanted something very minimal and strippy and comfortable, sporty without looking like sports sandals. I'd had my eye on these Jessies for a while, and given how fast Xero sells out of my size, I figured I'd better jump on them, if I didn't want to spend the summer wishing I had them.
I also like the prospect of a sandal in a really light color, to contrast with my blue and gray dresses, as well as the red dress I'm considering adding eventually. I anticipate wearing these sandals everywhere with everything in virtually every circumstance in the hot weather.
So, those are my purchases for now. I'm planning a dress purchase for February, to coincide with the start of Lent, when I want to do a 30-day challenge. Then I could use my discount for a summer dress. That would set me up pretty nicely, I think, though I might plan to buy a long-sleeved dress next fall, to wear through the winter.
This seems like a reasonable plan. I continue to mend and refurbish my original dresses as they need it, and to consider that quite possibly, after another year of wear, they won't be quite as nice as they once were. They have been and will probably continue to be my go-to dresses for hiking and the outdoors, while I protect my other dresses a little more assiduously, to keep them nice for as long as possible.
Today's agenda:
*check the submissions list at Able Muse and begin reading and sending rejections (or "declines," as some people more delicately put it)
*read my Bible for the day, and at least one other thing (stayed up late reading Penelope Fitzgerald last night)
*work on long poem in sapphics, which I might or might not include in my book MS to send to Alex at Able Muse
*and/or write 500 words of fiction
Wearing:
Well, here's the base layer, anyway: my black-heather Audrey. I had been dubious about buying a small instead of a medium, but overall, I'm glad I did. I haven't yet washed this dress since acquiring her in mid-November, because she hasn't needed it --- meanwhile, the fabric has relaxed a good bit, and what was an almost-snug fit has just become, I think, a good fit. While the images of this dress on the website make it look almost like a nightgown, I find that in this size, for me, she fits quite well, in a way that's fitted and body-flattering without being too tight.
I do also love this fabric and wish Wool& would make more dresses in it. It's lighter and drapier than Sierra, but a lot more substantial than Camellia/Maggie/Rowena/etc.
What I layered over this base, since it is January, and I'm not quite going to wear a sleeveless dress outside:
I can't remember when I bought this Gap linen hoodie at Goodwill. Ten years ago? Maybe a little more recently? Anyway, I've had it a long time. I haven't worn it all that much in the time I've had it, because the shape is a little strange to work with: boxy and not super cropped. It does not look good with any of my above-the knee dresses. The proportions are just off. Often enough I've thought about passing it along, but somehow I never quite could. I like it. I like that it's linen. I like that it's this nice silvery gray. I like that it's a hoodie. It's the kind of thing that if I got rid of it, the chances of my ever being able to replace it are basically nil. So I've hung onto it, thinking: the problem is not this piece. The problem is what I have to wear with it.
Enter long, flowy Audrey. Suddenly I have something that works, proportion-wise. Even with the length of this top, the skirt is long enough to balance it according to the Rule of Thirds. So I'm happy about that. It's almost enough to make me want another Audrey, although let's not get carried away, I tell myself. I have a slate of dresses I want to consider, and I don't want to keep adding to it endlessly. But yeah, thoughts of a vintage-blue-heather Audrey do creep in from time to time . . . maybe I don't really want a long-sleeved dress for next fall? We'll see . . .
Anyway. I put on my EVA Birks, because there they were, and the weather is like springtime outside. Walking the dog, my feet were not remotely cold. None of me was cold. All of me felt just right. It won't last, of course, but I'll take it while it does.
