Self-actualization is not for sale on Shopbop
Trust me, I've looked.
I’ve loved clothes for my entire life. A few years ago, I found a file with all of my kindergarten applications, and more than one of them referenced a penchant for wearing a specific tutu and tiara everywhere I went, and tottering around in my mother’s heels. Childhood obsessions aren’t unique experiences, but most grow out of them. I’m not sure I ever did.
I can’t speak for my 4-year-old self (I’m not Nicolas Cage, after all), but when I shop now, I’m shopping for the person I want to be. For example: I buy a Smythson diary every year because it makes me feel more like an old-school writer. I love it, but it’s dangerous logic. I can justify buying almost anything if I consider it a vote of confidence towards a better version of myself. It’s also not truthful: having a Smythson doesn’t make me a writer, just like having a Breton striped tee doesn’t make me French. I’ll never be French, but if I really want to feel that way, it’s sitting down on Duolingo and reigniting my long-dormant fluency that will get me closer, not a t-shirt (not even this one, which I do own and love). Plus, once I do arrive at whatever future versions of myself I’ve imagined, the goalpost will move and I’ll unlock a new version of myself that “requires” new things. Self-actualization is not available at Shopbop, but it’s what I’m actually searching for when I’m spending hours browsing their sales.
None of this is revelatory, to society or to me. I’m no stranger to the personal impact online shopping has had on my life and my finances over the years. I don’t want to think about how much I could’ve saved if I weren’t shopping, but running a rough mental calculation makes me queasy. I’ve articulated all of this to myself, my friends, and my family many times before. My shopping habit has gotten worse as I’ve gotten older and started earning more disposable income (my mind gets very stuck on the “disposable” part, it seems). I’ve tried to remedy this with shopping cleanses in the past—all of which have been short-lived.
And whenever I do buy something new, Camille Charrière’s words from this Vestiaire Collective interview ring in my ears:
Clothes look much better when they are not box-fresh. Buying second-hand and wearing the things you invest in for many years will give you an edge over everyone who is obsessed with new things. In my humble opinion, things never look good when they have not been worn in.
To me, it’s not about “having an edge” over other people; maybe that’s Charriere’s mindset because she makes a career out of being well-dressed, but, as I think I’ve made abundantly clear, when I get dressed, the only person I’m looking for an edge over is an old version of myself. I want every outfit to reflect an even chicer, more polished version of me. So, while I don’t agree with everything she has to say, I do think she has a point. Older clothes do look better.
Case in point: I have a bouclé black toggle coat from 2015 that I’ve trotted out season after season and never gets old. Friends I’ve known for years compliment me on it as if it’s new, not realizing they’ve seen me wearing it for nearly a decade. It’s a timeless piece that looks different on me season after season because I style it in different ways and carry myself differently during different phases of my life.
It’s not only the charming patina of old clothes that has me wanting to buy fewer new things. It’s also the sinking feeling I’ve gotten a few times recently after opening a drawer and realizing a recent purchase I lusted after for months (or, more realistically, minutes), hasn’t seen the light of day since it arrived.
So, as evidenced by the previous (failed) shopping cleanses, I’ve had the desire to do this for a while. But exercising monastic restraint has never worked for me—I needed a creative solution that would keep me occupied. I needed something that would make me feel like I was still discovering newness and dressing as my future self without draining my bank balance.
Enter: the “75Hard Style Challenge.” It is a shopping cleanse, but it’s one that feels attainable and creative.
The rules (though I highly recommend watching the whole video for additional insights):
Don’t buy anything for 75 days
Get dressed—this means an actual outfit, not throwing together something random. I often struggle with this, especially on WFH weekdays or weekends where I spend the morning workout out —every day, for 75 days, with clothes you already have
Document your outfits every day (I am terrible at this, but I’m going to try)
I know it’s not reinventing the wheel, but the concept of having to actually style a full look each day is what makes it more appealing to me than cold, hard shopping abstinence. It’s a way to encourage far more creativity than adding whatever newness I see to cart ever could (though I will still allow myself to browse for styling inspo) and there’s a finite end date. So, until June 21st, I’ll be shopping my closet.
So, starting today, the “future self” I’m shopping for is an intentional outfit repeater who prioritizes investment pieces and doesn’t get sucked in by sales. Let’s see how long she lasts.
love this- I'm in!!