Mindful Wardrobe Management for Clothing Lovers, Part 1
When it comes to clothing, I’m pretty sure there are two types of people—those who see their wardrobes as a form of self-expression, and those who’d vastly prefer it if they never had to buy a pair of shoes again. I’ve always been in the former category and, true confession, I’ve always felt a little guilty about it.
I don’t remember anyone ever telling me that caring about clothes was frivolous, but I internalized the idea, nonetheless. Serious women didn’t waste time on dresses or makeup. Serious women were more practical than that. Serious women were too busy changing the world to spend time browsing the shops for a delightful silk scarf!
Oh, and on top of the guilt for my empty-headed pleasures (and we can blame institutionalized sexism for that term, yes?), there was a whole second layer of guilt added on once I started learning about the modern fashion industry. When I really started to think about the number of people who have to be paid a living wage over the entire process of creating, say, a $15 cotton t-shirt, I quickly realized that it’s impossible. There’s no way that $15 can be distributed in a way that fairly compensates every seed distributer, field worker, spinner, weaver, cutter, sewer, dyer, packager, shipper, buyer, marketer, merchandiser, and salesperson who went into the production of that shirt—especially considering the portion funneled to CEOs and shareholders!
It felt like a choice between guilt, deprivation, and rationalization, none of which are consistent with how I want to live my life on a daily basis. I needed something better.
I’ve always loved the idea of not just owning clothes, but curating a wardrobe. I’m fascinated by the idea of clothing as an every-changing piece of our identities, representing who we are and what we want to project to others.
Also, just to put this out there…I really like lists.
I found my solution in something called “The Five-Piece French Wardrobe,” an incredibly misleading name for a wardrobe management system that’s neither French—that part was just smart Francophile marketing—nor a meagre five pieces of clothing.
It boils down to this:
Build a basic wardrobe of things you wear regularly: jeans, trousers, a couple of t-shirts, a blouse, a sweater, a dress…you get the idea. Keep it neutral, and don’t go overboard. It helps to make a list of these items—if you’re getting dressed every day, you probably already own them.
If one of your basics wears out or doesn’t fit anymore, replace it with something equivalent.
Twice each year (once for cold weather and once for warm weather), evaluate your closet and add five pieces you really love. These could be anything from a bright red statement coat bought secondhand to a pricey pair of designer jeans that fit perfectly and upgrade your basic ones.
There has been an awful lot of ink spilled online about this system (search it on Google or Pinterest and you’ll see), but it doesn’t have to be that difficult. Make sure you have your basics covered, set some limits, and allow yourself to have fun.
I’ll write more about about how I implemented and manage my “5PF” in next week’s post, but the most important part is this: it doesn’t feel like deprivation, guilt, or rationalization. This is how mindful shopping and reasonable wardrobe-building can look.
Because let’s be honest, I do love a delightful silk scarf.
