Talking clothes and shopping can feel indulgent and disconnected from real world problems. I get that. I use that as an excuse to keep me from self-care a lot, actually. What I am learning, though, is that taking care of myself means making sure I have what I need to thrive. Dressing myself in a way that speaks value and honor is a good thing. We shouldn’t overindulge, of course, but building a quality closet foundation is a great way to empower us to step into our full unique identities and potential.
I remember the days when shopping for clothes was fun. When it was inspiring and interesting and I could take my time to wander from store to store, trying on dresses and tops and jeans with ease. With joy, even. HA. Two kids later those days are sooooo long gone. Shopping is what you would make me do if you wanted to torture me and watch me cry. Just the thought of trying to wrangle two children into a store – the toddler grabbing various things off hangers and throwing them on the floor, the grade schooler rolling his eyes and asking how much longer til we can go home – it all makes me want to curl up and take a nap.
The real drama of a shopping outing these days happens in the dressing room, where the unforgiving mirrors are there to remind you that you have, indeed, had two children (incase you forgot about the screaming overtired, hungry toddler who is clinging to your legs.) It’s especially helpful when your older child chimes in with extra commentary such as, “That shirt really makes you look like you have a baby in your tummy, mom.” (I DO NOT.)
Halfway through the entire endeavor, you just give up. You give up, because the toddler is now kicking and punching her tiny fists on the dirty floor and your grade schooler is crawling under the door trying to escape and because all the things you brought to try on are very clearly made for people who really are forever 21, of which I am not. God bless the tiny sales girl who politely knocks on your door, as she will have a war zone of hangers and tops and graham cracker crumbs to manage once we leave this tiny room.
Of course, these are just a few hypothetical reasons why a person, like myself, might not want to spend her time shopping. The problem I run into, then, is that I shop online and hope for a good fit the first time (<– that right there does not exist, folks. It is the unicorn that online stores use to get you to click “add to cart”.)
I end up never shopping, and am stuck wearing the same things in my closet that I’ve owned since the last time I went shopping, in 2008.
I had no idea how to solve this problem. I would go to dress in the morning and feel sad about the dated, worn-out clothing options in my closet. It was like anything I put on made me feel as old and ragged as the clothes I was wearing. Perhaps that sounds dramatic, but I am a big believer in how our environments affect us. I’ve tried some solutions to this – I did the Stitch Fix boxes for a few months. But to be honest, as much as I wanted to love it, most of the things they sent me ended up not being me.
So when my friend Annette mentioned that she was giving the whole Capsule trend a try, I was intrigued. It took me months after our talk to try it for myself, but recently after another morning of standing in my closet feeling like I had nothing to wear, I decided to get serious about changing the way I do it. I researched and found a great blog devoted to the Capsule. It explains what it is, how to do it, there are even print outs and pdfs to help you along. She also posts her outfits and links to sources where you can shop them. (If you are at all interested in doing this yourself, I highly recommend jumping over to her page!)
Basically, its this: for three months, you decide on 37 items of clothing that you will commit to wearing. Everything else gets cleared out and put away – out of sight and mind. You make a list of what you have, what you need, and you set up a budget to purchase items to fill in the gaps. Every three months, you do it again. Slowly you are building a solid foundation of clothing pieces that you really love and need and wear.
I loved the process of this because it forced me to be ruthless about editing my closet. No longer could I keep the things that lingered in the back because I like the idea of them, but not the item itself. Perhaps it didn’t fit right, or I like the cut but no the color, perhaps it used to fit or holds sentimental value to me. Fine. Box it up and store it in the basement. But don’t keep it in your closet. That space became reserved only for the items I will be wearing for the next 90 days.
I loved the process because it helped me identify what I have an abundance of, and what I need to invest in. Most of the time I get so overwhelmed trying to figure it out, I walk away and stay in my leggings and tshirt all day. And that’s fine, friends. Stay in your jams all day – if it makes you feel good. The problem for me, however, is that it didn’t make me feel good. I felt tired, and old, and boring. I wanted to feel awake, inspired, fresh and creative. Dressing is a great way to do that. It can be a powerful tool.
I loved the process because it taught me how to shop. No longer was I making a rush decision, or finding myself purchasing something because I was bored or to fill an emotional need. I had a list and a budget and a goal. It was refreshing and motivating.
I’m excited for this process, and who knows, I may even find myself enjoying shopping again (while the kids are with a sitter, of course!) Below is an inspiration board for my early spring/summer capsule: