it should be love at first sight (with clothes)
plus fall outfit breakdowns, clothing purgatory, and crocs
Does anyone else have a cabinet or something like that where clothes go to die? My clothing purgatory is a linen cabinet in the hallway, where I’ve been storing (I hate to say it but usually crumbled) pieces of clothing about which I feel conflicted. They’re usually either too recently outdated but will inevitably come back into style or momentarily don’t fit but may again. The key is that these pieces could really follow several life paths. They could A. Stay in the cabinet indefinitely until I move out. B. Get pulled back onto the main team in my closet (this happens! I retrieved two Uniqlo U skirts and one pair of Adidas flares this week). C. Go to a friend, as did a recent pair of Levi’s Ribcage jeans. D. Join the pile of things to be donated or consigned. Or E. (worst option) Go to the big, bad, basement storage room in a garbage bag, punting the evaluation to future me. I need to stop doing that last one.
Just like I feel conflicted about the pieces in purgatory, I feel at odds with the idea of purgatory in the first place, or specifically with the high number of items in purgatory because I’m not immune to the temptress that is a relatively minimal wardrobe. It would be different if I had a huge closet with enough room for lots of clothing, but since I’ve never had that, I understand the dilemma of facing a closet overstuffed with hanging skirts and messy drawers that won’t close because they hold too many jeans. And so I think: Can’t I just pare it back to what I really need and use this cabinet for something else? But then what if 10 years down the line I kick myself for the vintage Buffalo Bills sweatshirt from my parents that I donated during a particularly rebellious time and now remember longingly every fall Sunday and so I rebuy it for $80 on Etsy (this happened last year lol)? What about then? I should factor the fact that I can’t even find that sweatshirt rn into the answer.
My mom still regrets her decision 15 years ago to donate her Ralph Lauren sweaters from the 90s. I also wish she hadn’t! And I regret donating a blue wool blazer that I thrifted in high school. It wasn’t that special, but I wrote a few of my favorite blog posts about it and maybe it would be nice to still wear occasionally. I currently have a two-piece, cow-print, wool, handmade set from Maison Cleo that I ordered for my 23rd birthday in 2020. I coined a new word in honor of the set, “cowfit,” and I named a playlist after it and envisioned passing it down to my future child, and despite all of that, I still tried to sell it recently because… ehh, I don’t wear it and it doesn’t really fit right now. That would probably be a mistake? Or maybe we should just power through any haunting thoughts of outfits past and realize that it’s just a part of life to miss something you wore back when you were someone else.
Fashion writer Rachel Tashjian, a person whose style ethos I really respect, recently answered a question in her newsletter Opulent Tips about closet pruning, revealing that she doesn’t “really get rid of anything,” and I get it. I guess it comes down to space, and again I don’t have much of that, but it also probably comes down to whether and to what extent an item is beloved. Maybe she’s at the point where she’s pruned everything she doesn’t care about and has been, for years, welcoming only special pieces into her wardrobe, so they all deserve their spot. But how do we know if a piece is worth it in the long run?
One time during college, I asked a friend what she thought of something that I was on the fence about purchasing while we were shopping at Urban Outfitters.
“If you hesitate even a little then you shouldn’t buy it,” she said. “You should really love everything you buy.”
Mind-blowing! That was literally mind-blowing to me. And I remember putting it down and feeling kind of taken aback and like maybe she wasn’t a good shopping buddy (lol) but I just needed time to process her incredible wisdom. I still think about it to this day. It seems obvious, but try following it and see how long it takes you to shut down her voice and justify your hesitancy. Of course, I still take chances on pieces that I’m unsure about and sometimes they absolutely pay off, but all of my favorite pieces — the ones that I wear the most and think are perfect in every way — were no-brainer, love-at-first-sight purchases. I wasn’t hemming and hawing. I knew immediately that they were “the one.”
Take, for example, my recent birthday gift to myself: a pair of Crocs. I’ve never once before liked a pair of Crocs and haven’t owned a pair since I was eleven. But when I saw my pair of Crocs, an enormously chunky, slate gray, platformed pair adorned with quirky beachcomber/woodland-themed jibbitz, I knew immediately that they were to be mine. But I’m a little mystified because I didn't think I liked Crocs.
And haven’t we all been there when we don’t like a song much at first and then succumb to its ubiquity and decide we’re a fan after too many listens, which begs the question: Do we like the song? Or are we just used to the song? The phenomenon also happens with clothes. Do we like a piece or are we just used to seeing the piece over and over and over and so it’s lodged in our heads and it’s snowballed in meaning and now, for some reason, we want it? And is that the case with my Crocs? (No!!! Please no.)
I do actually think it is not the case with my Crocs, because they’re beautiful stunning perfect in every way thank you, but also because I hadn’t been on the fence about Crocs, turning the idea of wearing them over and over in my mind for a while trying to decide if I was a Crocs girl. I just saw this pair and knew. And in general, it’s paid off for me when I’ve had that instant spark of excitement for a piece. It happened with my most worn pieces: my Melissa x Y/Project boots, secondhand The Row coat and navy Babaa wool turtleneck. Of course, I’ve still purchased things that I thought I wanted but it turned out that the internet was just advertising them to me really, really aggressively. My Outdoor Voices exercise dress. An Everlane blue chore coat. Hot take: but most of my non-vintage Levi’s! They were on sale and the ads hit me during vulnerable moments. And so I learned some shopping carts are meant to be abandoned, but some cowfits are meant to be kept.
If you asked me point-blank if I followed trends, I would give you the most political, complicated, long, and meandering answer of “yes” and “no” and “define trend.” But the truth is that I have watched an embarrassing number of YouTube videos, read a ridiculous number of articles, and listened to a heinous number of podcasts about fall trends for 2023. I like to stay informed and also walk okay!!!
If you don’t already know, they’re all basically saying it’s cherry red, tall leather boots, 90s minimalism, the girls are still hitting the clubs in office clothing, ballet flats, loafers, t-shirts-jeans-sneakers, long pleated skirts, sheer tops, big wool coats.
Here’s my trend report for myself: hype-y accessories (re: my Crocs), layered colorful/complimentary turtlenecks, The Row s/s ‘24 color combinations (which Leandra Medine recreated brilliantly in her newsletter recently), wearing my Uniqlo U wide-leg jeans at every opportunity, throwing my secondhand By Malene Birger gray silk scarf over every outfit (“scarf dressing” also predicted to be big again this season), exposing my thighs for the first time in years (so mini things), cocoons obviously, crazy clunky shoes with streamlined outfits, and yeah I can get behind cherry red.
Now let’s talk about some recent fits!
Topical content I consumed recently and recommend: This Cultured Mag article in which Rachel Tashjian (a little obsessed with her currently) shares several wise nuggets of advice including, “Always watch at least four movies, read at least three books, and go to at least two museum shows a month. Your outfits will be better, your accessorizing more attentive, and your weekends more visually extravagant.” and “Never forget to develop an unhealthy obsession with a single designer, refuse to wear anything but their clothes for several years, enmesh your entire identity with the symbolism and semantics of their runway output, and then abruptly change your mind and move onto something else.” Me rn with The Row! Me justifying my refusal to socialize on most weeknights bc I need to be with my content! She’s so right. // Guillermo del Toro’s (partly Buffalo-based!) movie Crimson Peak, a wonderful spooky watch for this time of year and bursting with gothic, Victorian clothing and hair inspo. // An Articles of Interest podcast episode about the laziness, ignorance and willful exclusion at the heart of the reasons why brands don’t make plus-size clothing. // YouTube videos by @cupofjordy. Jordan uploads consistently, discusses a lot of brands that I enjoy and shares incredible thrift hauls and styling advice. // Lastly, I’ve been working my way through
‘s of definitive fall shopping spreadsheet. She’s the fashion journalism hero we both need and hopefully deserve! Reilly crowdsourced shopping information from her friends and followers about what they’ve already bought for fall, the items on their wishlist, the brands currently exciting them, etc. You need to request permission from her Google account to view it but she grants it pretty quickly. Worth an evening of link-clicking while wine drinking.That’s all for this week! xx 🎂
Francesca
Such simple but important advice to remember when shopping!
incredible writing, incredible fits, incredible media recommendations thank u !!!!! <33