By guest writer Daria Miano
Finding motivation for spring wardrobe shopping is elusive this year. High waist flares and boyfriend jeans? I’ve got a stack of them. Midi skirts? A closet staple. 70s? I’ve got vintage filling half a bedroom closet.
The issue isn’t just spring shopping.
I am so over my winter uniform of the past 3 years (collared shirt, pullover, denim, ankle boots blanket scarf, coat) that I’ve begun reaching into the darkest corners of my closet for pieces that fell out of favor for no reason other than that newer, shinier things took their place. I want to move forward, but I’m reaching into the past.
This brings me to another sad reality. The darkest corners of my closet are really hard to get to. Actually, the entirety of my closet is really hard to get to. Every rod is packed tight and bowed from the weight of years of fashion binges. Every drawer is overflowing and difficult to even open. Some of what’s hiding there is junk some is not. Worn basics from American Apparel and fast fashions from Zara are mixed in current staples from Madewell and statement pieces from Marc Jacobs and All Saints. Almost everything has a story, a history. I could write a biography of my life and illustrate it with the outfits I wore. These outfits reflected my moods, my lifestyles, my diets and my aspirations. I never just “got dressed.” This is a closet that has been careful curated over the years. It is my story.
Yes, it’s romantic to think of my closet as a museum collection, but it’s come to a point where this archive is restricting my future. The clutter is suffocating. I cannot plan for the spring season and I cannot shop. My closet is bursting with the skeletons of seasons past and there is literally no room for a new me.
What if I just wore the flares, midi skirts and vintage collectibles I already have? I could get by and even look current with what I already have! No doubt, some pieces, like my old Doc Martens and a certain vintage motorcycle jacket, are so iconic and representative that they WILL stay with me for a lifetime, but wearing some of these older pieces often feels like a bad sequel. Even after refreshing the look with 2015 footwear and styling, I’m left unsatisfied and feeling worn around the edges. I’ve evolved and my image needs to reflect that.
One of the pitfalls of loving vintage and unique pieces is that they don’t really go out of style. Its hard to know when to pull the plug on them. I keep coming back to the thought that no matter how cool a particular dress is, 2015 me should not be dressing like 2007 me. I’m not afraid to re-invent my hair. Clothing turnover should be approached with the same level of fearlessness and detachment.
So why am I wearing the same sleep shirts for literally 15 years? Am I afraid to let go of who I was? Or maybe I just hate the thought of “wasting” something by throwing it out. It’s probably a little of both.
Now that I’ve thought about this, I’m committed to attacking the gluttony of my closet with a brutal hand. I want to enjoy the excitement of discovering a minimalist tailored jacket and super fun bright trainers that will be supporting characters in my spring and summer adventures. I want that amazing new suede a-line skirt to hang freely in a spacious closet so that I can actually see it when I slide open the doors on sunny mornings.
I’ve already begun. I have two full bags of cast-offs so far and an appointment with a clothing resale shop on Friday. After that mass dump, it’s time to f**king shop.