I Have Nothing To Wear
My closet is an organized mess.
It consists of a variety of impulse buys, thrifted vintage treasures, occasional patterns, and clothes for events I haven't been to but will eventually go to in a future lifetime. I want to emphasize that I don't follow micro-trends. But rather, my buying habits revolve around this long-term philosophy of mine: Would I still like this in 10 years when I have a fully developed frontal lobe and when I have kids and am married? If the answer is no, it will not be bought. I tend to go more for the quality and timeless style, but the mountain of clothes in my closet does not reflect that.
Yet, every day I wake up and I dread going to my beloved closet because I simply and ridiculously think, "I have nothing to wear."
It's a humiliating lie, because the problem isn't that I have a lack of options but rather I'm so overstimulated by the overload of options. As an already indecisive person, the fear and annoyance of picking an outfit that is a "flop" is truly paralyzing. It becomes even more infuriating when an outfit I plan in my mind is so amazing and foolproof, then turns out to be downright hideous. This is a different level of disappointment that words cannot even express. And so it all comes down to this worrisome thought: Is my "more is more" philosophy failing me?
The thought of a capsule wardrobe is not scary for me, but more so stressful. My concern was that I wouldn't be able to pick items because my personality changes just as often as my stylistic choices. How could I curate items to a constantly shifting identity? So, I challenged myself to a 7-day, 15 item capsule wardrobe. For one week, I had to look beyond my anxiety-inducing closet, and force myself to curate a limited collection that represents what I actually wear and love. This is more than just aesthetic minimalism but more so a clear understanding of my own style through radical limitation.
7-DAY JOURNEY BEGINS: SURVIVING ON 15 ITEMS
The 15 item limit was anything but easy. Aside from choosing my armor for the week, the toughest part of this challenge was thinking past the dilemmas of: What if I got tired of wearing the same pair of jeans or shirt? Am I forgetting something essential? This challenge quickly exposed the harsh truth: the difference between wanting to become a minimalist versus actually becoming one, for me, was like an uphill battle, nearly impossible. Nevertheless, I pushed on.
DAYS 1-2:
The initial first two days I did not feel any restriction or stress. I instantly went to my safest choices: a white t-shirt and my tried and true 94' baggy Levi's jeans paired with my Jonak black loafers. And as for Day 2, I had gravitated towards my Zara ribcage jeans with a thrifted black off the shoulder long sleeve top.
The start of this challenge, it did not feel as daunting as my mind made it seem. It was almost as if I was going back to my younger days when I attended a private Catholic school and was required to wear a uniform everyday. I did not have an option back in those days, and with my lack of options during this challenge I forgot how refreshing that structure can be.
Days 3-5
The challenge started to mentally kick in by Day 4 and somehow the ease of this challenge slipped away. By this point, I was tired of my comfort pairings and was felt restricted, immediately regretting sacrificing a slot or two on basic items when a bold and unique piece could have actually perhaps made this challenge a bit more interesting and fun. This stage was where I felt anxious and a bit bothered by thoughts of people knowing I had worn the same thing just the day prior.
Furthermore, it clicked in my head that the frustration wasn't purely from the low item count; I realized the plainness of my chosen pieces made them susceptible to quick aesthetic fatigue. This revealed they weren't the versatile pieces I had initially hoped would make this challenge easy for me. I did not feel inspired.
Since I couldn't change the clothes, I had to change how I styled and accessorized. I realized I could layer my black and white spaghetti tank tops and pair my thrifted pinstripe jeans with a black belt and wear some chunky jewelry for visual interest. And as for Day 5, I wore the same jeans and only the white tank top, pairing it with my chunky gray yarn cardigan from Massimo Dutti and Ugg boots.
I wouldn't say by Day 5 my thoughts changed, but more so I was just frustrated with the forced creativity. Although the pieces I chose were supposed to be easily versatile, the effort required to make them feel new was mentally demanding, and it was disappointing to know that the end results would be predictable.
Days 6-7
By Day 6, I was mentally preparing myself for the end of this challenge. I felt my combinations were giving me the impression I was in the movie, Groundhog Day. Getting dressed had become less of a creative ritual and more so a functional task. So, although my morning routine moved by a little faster, it was a price I wasn't very happy to pay. And even despite accessorizing and trying to switch combinations, the lack of creative freedom remained unsatisfied.
Finally, Day 7 arrived, and I felt relieved to know it was the last day. I had finished this challenge off with a black vintage tie top from my mom's closet and my 94' baggy Levi's Jeans, paired with my Jonak loafers. This final outfit, was not styled with creative satisfaction but with consolation knowing that the day after, I would have access to my chaotic organized mess of a wardrobe.
The Takeaways:
This challenge didn't transform me, and honestly, I didn't think it would considering that 7 days is not enough time to change deep-seated habits. But it did make me more aware of the fact that I just love clothes and I love the idea of everyday being my own "fashion show". I enjoy the routine of surfing through Pinterest and being inspired of what I can concoct.
The greatest lesson was the realization that style exists in a spectrum between elevated basics and creative fulfillment. The methodology behind capsule wardrobes highlighted how easy it was to achieve efficiency but also how easy it was to get emotional fatigued when relying too heavily on few items. The goal of getting dressed, shouldn't solely be on efficiency but also happiness.
Furthermore, I had to process the fact that those maximalist pieces I have don't have to be solely one-hit wonders; they must serve as well as creative multipliers. So while I tried to use this challenge to dress with intention, ultimately it taught me: I should stop being scared of using the pieces I thought I could only wear in future lifetimes. Otherwise why buy it at all? Perhaps those events I dreamt of wearing those pieces to are actually for the events I make available for right now.
So, while my morning routine moved along quicker, the loss of stylistic joy was also noticeably missing. And so while people require a morning coffee to be happy, I require my morning Pinterest surf and joy of picking my potential, new outfit fixation.
