I am highly suggestible, so it’s thanks to this tendency that I got into capsule wardrobes. Stuck in a rut and without anything to wear despite a HUGE wardrobe that groaned under far too many coat hangers worth of stuff, I did the silly thing when I wanted to start again and thew out basically everything in one go. I’m an all or nothing kinda gal, to my detriment at times. Learn from my mistake, kids.
Now I know there has been a bit of a backlash with the whole minimal living and keeping small wardrobes – fad thing for hipster wannabes and yet another criteria to judge others against. The benefits I found in trying to live better with less have been ten fold though, particularly once you realise what disorder I thought was normal. Some people thrive in organised chaos (my mum is a brilliant example) but at heart that type of living never sat well with me, and I have vivid memories as a child of being incredibly disheartened with my surroundings because I could never make sense of it. The philosophy behind capsule wardrobes (and minimal living in general), is applicable to anyone wanting to bring their material possessions under control.
For the uninitiated, capsule wardrobes are meant to be a finely curated and well maintained collection of clothing that doesn’t go out of fashion (i.e. pieces that date well) and can be matched in indefinite combinations since they will be of a basic but complimentary style. Some people live with a year round capsule, others choose to dress as the season dictates (i.e. storing away summer clothes during the winter months and vice versa). The aim is to own enough, swapping out or updating as required, without being excessive. Sound like way too much effort and a bit too try hard? You may be right, but clothes are universal and having too many is definitely a first world problem, regardless of whether you’re living in New York or residing in Moonah.
Now I say I’m not a shopping junkie, but I would inevitably tire of my clothes about once every 2-3 years, which resulted in a huge online shopping spree costing a few hundred dollars as I tried to “refresh” my wardrobe. And while I never followed trends, the clothes I bought were inherently trendy – being the latest cut, colour, or style immediately and conveniently available. Added to this, I would simply accumulate each time I shopped and never threw out a significant amount to make way for the newest batch. The result was a mess of clothes for all sorts of occasions, real or aspirational, which I couldn’t make sense of or apply realistically. I was the sartorial equivalent of the Junk Lady in The Labyrinth.
We’ll cover my capsule journey in later posts, but what I can say now is that buying with more intention really helps you keep perspective and forces you to actually comprehend and consider what you buy. There are plenty of places in Tasmania that cater towards intentional purchasing, and we will cover them and hopefully discover more as we go.