Fashion changes, but style endures. ― Coco Chanel
The following is a modified/mostly deleted excerpt from the STYLE chapter in 12 Tiny Things: Simple Ways to Live a More Intentional Life. My co-author of that book, Ellie, ended up authoring that chapter, so while a small part of what follows is included, most of it was reworked or edited out as the project evolved. The need to replace some clothes popped up again recently, so fashion and style have been on my mind.
I remember walking down Grand Avenue in St. Paul one warm summer evening probably six or seven years ago, one of those evenings where the air feels sweet against your bare skin and you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. I was out with some girlfriends, and we were strolling along the sidewalk casually, trying to decide where to eat dinner.
“God, Heidi, I love your style.”
“Come again?” I said, glancing at my friend sideways. (What is she talking about?! I have no style whatsoever)
“You just always look so classic and put together.”
Well, this whole exchange threw me for a loop. I’m one of those people who doesn’t really like shopping. I buy clothes only when I’m forced to do so because what I have is falling apart, has been eaten by the dryer, or has gone missing. I know little to nothing about fashion. But despite this, my friend — and I’ll add that the other friend agreed — said I always look classic and put together.
Reflecting back on that day, I was wearing a stretchy brown skirt (that I still wear regularly), a fitted green tank top (that I still wear..in the garden only), and some sandals I got in Morocco 15 years ago for the equivalent of about two American dollars (that I still have, but sadly the leather is too brittle to wear them anymore)1. At any rate, what I wear is definitely not high fashion2, or even what most people might consider stylish, or keeping with the trends of the times. The outfit that summer evening was simple, didn’t require much thought, fit well, and was comfortable. I bet that’s why I looked so classic and put together to my friends. I felt good in my skin, I was comfortable, and I felt confident in who I was and at ease because of those things. To this day, that brown skirt represents beauty and ease, two things that I want my life to be based on.
As mentioned already, I dislike shopping, at least in the typical American sense that includes malls3 and department stores and Amazon. Farmer’s markets and co ops I can handle. But since there are not many clothes to be found at the farmer’s markets that I frequent, I haven’t gone shopping for new clothes in years. As a result, I haven’t been supporting bad working conditions in factories or infinite economic growth on a finite planet. I have spent zero time and used no gasoline to get to a mall just to be bombarded by advertising campaigns. Great, right?
In theory, not going shopping and purchasing no new clothes in the last several years seems to be consistent with a lifestyle that is built on embracing principles of simplicity. Why acquire new when what you already have is fine?
Alas, therein lies the problem with my wardrobe story. What I have is no longer fine.
I find myself wearing essentially the same four shirts and the same three pairs of pants (two yoga, one pair of jeans) week after week. In summer, two or three pairs of shorts, a few different tank tops. I work from home, so this is easy to do. Occasionally, the rotation includes some other items as the weather or activities of the day dictate. So, what’s wrong with that? Well, what’s wrong is that those four shirts and three pairs of pants are either 1) totally faded/frayed 2) have lost their shape 3) should not be worn in public or 4) are no longer comfortable. Wearing the same things all the time has simply worn them out. Turns out clothes – even well-made clothes – don’t last forever. In this case, less is not more. There are occasions when less isn’t quite enough.4
I need to balance my aversion to shopping and how it doesn’t fit with the principles I strive to live by with acquiring enough functional clothes (that I will actually wear-did I mention I have hangers and drawers full of clothes that just don’t fit right, that were gifts or that are even older than the ones I wear currently?)5 to move through my days in comfort and confidence. And without the soundtrack of my daughter saying, “Mom, hole” while pointing at my sweater. I often feel like I just don’t have any sense of style, or that I even need to have one. But perhaps I just need to figure out what ‘style’ means to me. It doesn’t have to mean getting new jeans every season or the latest trendy ________. It can mean embracing what feels good to wear, too.
Until the day my farmer’s market starts a locally grown clothing line, or I learn to sew, I should probably just see what the local thrift store has to offer and shop wisely. And I should probably turn those 20 year old T-shirts into rags. Stuff that is so old that it’s threadbare isn’t in alignment with how I want to present myself to the world.
The whole family went shopping last Friday. Neither Nick nor I had to work, Eva didn’t have preschool, the weather was cold and muddy, and we needed toilet paper. Shopping was one of those things we needed to do, and we had no good reason not to — nowhere to be, weather not great for playing outside, and we were missing some essentials.
First stop: Target. Which makes me feel instantly tired, almost like I’ve been drugged with a sedative or am going on three hours of sleep. We got some toilet paper and a few pairs of little girls tights for Eva, and made our escape before anyone perished. Next stop: Office Max. I needed a new office chair because the one I have been using for the last ten years is coming apart. That, and it was never very ergonomically correct, and, let’s be honest, ugly and cheaply made. The fact that I am starting a new job in a week’s time was motivation enough to get to a store to find a chair6 that was well put together and that wouldn’t make my lower back ache. After a quick exchange with a head-setted salesperson, we piled back into the Jeep, one large box of office chair to boot. Fairly painless.
Then it was time to go to the thrift store. This meant that I was going to have to walk down aisles of clothing and look through shirt after shirt after skirt after legging, trying to find something that both fits and looks presentable. Theoretically, shopping at a thrift store fits right into the things that I think shopping should be about - it’s reusing, it’s giving back to the local community via the money exchanged for the goods, it’s being economical about our finances - all positives. But it still makes me feel tired and vaguely anxious.
On this particular trip, I walked up and down the aisles, occasionally pulling something off the rack and into my pile of things to try on. I gathered up a few pairs of jeans, some leggings, a few long sweaters, and a bunch of shirts, went into a fitting room and started the process of making decisions on what to actually buy. Too long, too short, too tight, too loose, too faded, too sparkly, too trendy….but eventually I found a few things that were just right. A soft gray sweater with a cowl neck. Some simple black leggings. A forest green zip up hoodie. Two shirts that felt like air when I put them on. Everything that I got was comfortable, with enough stretch that I could still move freely, and fit well. Ironically, the things that ended up fitting were items that my spouse found, but that just goes to show that sometimes it’s best to accept help where you need it. Sometimes others can see your style more clearly than you can. At any rate, I’m coming to accept that even if I don’t like shopping, I still do have a personal sense of style — it’s just one that happens to be rooted in simplicity, comfort and ease.
Curate a life that aligns your radiant inner and outer beauty. —12 Tiny Things
I want to wear something every day that makes me feel good. This means I’m going to be wearing something comfortable, but also something that I can wear out of the house with confidence if I want to go somewhere. Granted, there are occasions where a dress code or necessity dictates what we have to wear, but there’s often a chance to take ownership of whatever will be adorning our physical body. So, wear the red socks, the pearls, the flats instead of the heels. Or the heels instead of the flats. Wear at least one thing that says, “Yep. This is me. This is what makes me feel good. This is me choosing inner beauty over what other people might think is pretty.”
To harness my own sense of style — the one that keeps me focused on what matters to me, from wardrobe to home decor — I need to get rid of what doesn’t, and get enough of what does.
What’s going to help you move closer to alignment today?
Six years after writing this, yep….still have all of these items.
Though once I was given a haircut that the stylist deemed a ‘high fashion mullet’ in college, a haircut that I kept for approximately three days before going back and asking her to do something else—never say “whatever you think” when the stylist says “what are we doing today?” unless you are prepared to use a lot of hair product. Which I am not.
Do people still go to malls? I don’t know.
In a middle class existence—we could tangent here in many ways, and discuss why this is an issue, but I’ll save that for another post.
Happy to report that since this writing, I have delivered ample loads to the local thrift store and our rag supply is high.
We got a good chair on that trip - 6+ years later, it’s serving me well.
Dear Heidi,
Thank you for this beautiful post. I could relate and it made me feel included and encouraged. Your words make a difference and they give me strength for the journey. Peace, Jayne