The Great American Apparel Diet

no buying for one year

I’ve recently returned from a whirlwind trip to Ontario for a family visit with the boyfriend. Like I’ve said in an earlier post, I don’t have many shopping options here in my town and most of my clothing purchases happen online. So being in “civilization” kind of put me into shopping OVERDRIVE!!! Since I normally don’t have the luxury of being able to pack up and leave town whenever I want, being in any city with endless shopping possibilities is pretty exciting! Even the most minuscule mall can give me a rush!!

One of the reasons I chose TGAAD as my new years resolution was to ease myself into it without feeling too overwhelmed. Also, I figured since we had already planned this trip way far in advance, that I didn’t want to limit myself while on the second trip out of town this year…like I said, I don’t get out much.

So..First things first: Budget, Budget, Budget! I budgeted for the entire trip. I saved up a couple months in advance, made a list of things that I really wanted to buy annnd… I didn’t bring my credit card [that part was pretty easy since it's been sitting pretty in a block of ice in my freezer for the last year and a half].

So as soon as we got into the city[Day 2 of a 15 hour drive and at this point we had been up since 4:30 in the morning], we went straight for the mall. THE WEST EDMONTON MALL!! Oh the convenience! Oh the stores! Oh the humanity!!! Anthropologie! Victorias Secret! H&M! Lululemon!! Ahh there are too many to name! ShoesShoesShoesssssss!!! The one stop shop!

It was great and I loved it, and somehow I managed to buy more accessories [scarves, hats, jewelry, sunglasses..etc] and gifts than actual clothes. In the 17 days we were gone I came home with 2 sweaters; 1 cardigan – $12.99 at Old Navy; 1 long sleeved active shirt (perfect for under my hockey equipment) and a pair of AE jeans $49.50….Huh, go figure. One of the best purchases would have to have been the most darling of egg holders from anthropologie in this fab blue colour..it was something like $16 and I LOVE IT!

TenDays until the real challenge begins. EXCITED MUCH!?!?! xoxo

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After all this time I thought I had a shopping problem when in fact closet inertia is what I really suffer from.   It’s hard to medicate the problem if you have the wrong diagnosis.   If I have learned one thing this year about me it is that I have no imagination when I step into my poorly lit, over packed, closet.  Upon entry, I look around at the sea of black, navy and a few bright pops and draw the immediate conclusions, “my wardrobe sucks” and “I have nothing to wear.”

How can that be, when a girl’s closet is full?   As we all know having a closet full of clothes doesn’t stop one from wanting to shop and buy more.  But my impetus for shopping has never been rooted in the need to hoard clothes; instead shopping taps into my need to be inspired and to look inspired.    

Allow me to explain.   My shopping instincts are strongest when I simply don’t have the energy to “shop my closet,” which is most of the time.  It takes work.  When I walk into a store like Anthropologie a talented fashion merchandiser has already put the outfits together on the wall or in the window so it’s easy to imagine myself in a great new “look.”  Invariably, when shopping I will find something new that instantly makes me feel excited.  And with the help of the well trained sales person I am always reassured of my need to spice things up.   But when I shop my closet the only fashion muse I can rely on for inspiration is me and my preoccupied, rushed self.  It takes time (alone time, no kids, no husbands) to look through what I have in my wardrobe, it takes creativity to mix and match items, and it takes the desire to imagine how various items pair with footwear and accessories.  There is no high, no rush and simply no entertainment in that small space next to my bed.  It’s much harder to shop my closet than it is to jump in the car, pay for parking, run up the escalator to my favorite store, try a few things on, pay and be done. 

This past year without the convenience or excuse to shop I have been forced to wear what I own.  This has lead to a decreased interest in how I look (though no one seems to notice, or they are not telling me).  I have resorted to a uniform of sorts that is, quite frankly, boring and uninspired but much easier than my daily outfits before the diet.  

So what am I going to do to remedy my closet inertia as I prepare to shop again?  First off, I could use a bay of store windows lining my closet.  Second I could employ my own stylist, one who makes house calls.  Third I could hire an intern to take scrupulous inventory because the thought of that bores me to tears.  None of these ideas are realistic or affordable though.   I read somewhere about a women who solves her own closet confusion by photographing various outfits and versions of outfits that she puts together from her closet and then referencing them when it’s time to get dressed in the morning—sounds like work to me.

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As I descend into my sixth month on the clothes diet, I’ve caught myself reminiscing about my last trip to a mall. My friend Tina and I were quite bored after lunch one afternoon and had some time to spare, so we ventured to a relatively new mall that was close-by, but rarely possessed anything either of us could afford. Being that I was on the clothes diet and she has been trying to cut back a little, we made a pact. We could look at all the pretty things we want, but if either of us tried to make a purchase, they would be allotted one smack and a stern “NO”.  There would be no rationalizing a purchase here, nor any mindless spending.

Soon, of course, we found that this formerly extravagant mall had fallen on (slightly) tough times, allowing more affordable stores into their hallowed halls. (I might add that you can now cue Joe Jackson’s “Captain of Industry (Overture)” to play in the background of this paragraph.) Upon our realization of the mall’s new persona that was filled with the likes of Forever 21 and Anthropologie, we ran around like kids in a store that sold not just candy, but also some forbidden fireworks and other explosives.  At this point, the clothing racks were flooded with echoes of oohs and aahs. Fingers were pointed at sparkly trinkets, and puppy dog eyes gleamed in the face of plumed fascinators. But all was forgotten as an apple-red tweed jacket lined with navy tartan and a portion of Paddington Bear’s soul quickly caught my canine sight, overshadowing any reflections from the other doodads. Light shone from its threads as swirling, twinkling colors straight from the opening credits of Family Affair settled upon its countenance. It was the apple of my eye, and as said eyes glazed over and my drool washed ashore, Tina sensed my weakness very quickly, pulling me aside to look at floral frocks to which she knows I would never feel betrothed. This brought up another point of conversation, a story from our teenage years.

Soon pointing a rigid finger at a bowl full of jewel encrusted, tiger bedecked rings, and glitter nail polish, Tina squealed, “Tabatha, I neeeeed these things,” mocking a former incarnation of herself who was also blinded by the light of fashion. We chortled at Tina’s quotation of that hidden and buried inner girl that had once picked up a bundle of tchotchkes in a Claire’s Accessories, making the exact same proclamation, one of need rather than desire. However, we knew deeply that neither of us had really grown out of the inane love spell that we first noted while perusing those novelties during that hazy memory of a spring evening. The little girls within ourselves would never let us forget those sparkled yearnings.

Luckily, through our wit and self-deprecating humor, we made it out of the mall with nothing but a discount Erlenmeyer flask that I had, as I explained to Tina with her lips already poised for a “NO”, been searching for over a six month period. Right now I still think about the jacket, and if I hadn’t been on the diet I know that I probably would have returned to romantically whisk  it off its hanger. But I can rest easy knowing that I now have money to spend on making memories at summer concerts for the Psychedelic Furs and the Go-Gos that would otherwise have been spent on my addiction to tweed. This is at least a great solace.

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A few weeks ago I got an Anthropologie catalog in my mail box, (as in mail box stuck to my house and not in my computer).  I have been tossing catalogs in the recycle bin without much ado since September simply to make the point… “I’m bigger than that.”  But the day the Antrhroplogie book arrived I found myself feeling a little vulnerable, I can’t remember why; perhaps it was the floral dress on the skinny model gracing the cover or maybe it was the svelte wisp of a thing on the back next to the postal indicia wearing a crisp white blouse and an Emily Bronte print skirt.  Regardless, I spent a long luxurious hour savoring each page carefully.  Stopping to drool on the pages I especially liked. 

Eventually the soiled, dog-eared catalog ended up in my brief case…just in case.  In case what?  In case I smashed into a wall and fell off the diet?  In case the apocalypse reared it’s ugly head and I needed one last outfit?  Just in case I found myself at a doctor’s appointment with nothing to read?  Yes, carrying it around for an emergency makes good plain sense. 

This may be what it’s like to be addicted to porn.

For days I harbored the catalog in my bag, shuttling back and forth from work to home to school to my son’s piano lessons, occasionally revisiting the pages for a quick hit and a moment of mindless pleasure.

And then, last week, between a lunch meeting and an appointment with my son’s teacher I found myself in Bali, on page 28 at the foot of a waterfall wearing a pair of very cool platform sandals and a wrap-around sundress with an enormous orange and green palm frond print.  My 6’1 body was lithe and my thin, sculpted, bronzed legs went on forever.  The jungle was lush, dripping with moist humidity, not the kind that makes your hair flat or frizzy but the sultry, wet dripping perspiration that glistens on your skin, gives your hair heft and makes your legs look tan and sexy.  Ahhhh, what a mystical place.  I looked amazing…until my phone rang. 

Anyone want to borrow my catalog? .

.

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If I thought I was unclear as to what my style was before I embarked upon this diet I am now officially stupified!  This week I went to a great clothing swap with lots of really good second hand apparel.  I came home with a white t-shirt, a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans.  More of the same.  There were prints, velvets and fancy skirts, wrap-around-dresses and plenty of accessories and I got….a white t-shirt.  I think I’m frozen now that I haven’t bought anything for a while.  Clothing is simply not that interesting to me these days, especially if it takes some thinking to put an outfit together.  Have I gotten lazy or just more confused.  Not sure but I now have seven white t-shirts, over 11 black sweaters and more jeans than I can count.  Someone, save me from myself.

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Ok girls, and one guy.  We do have one guy now, though we are yet to hear from him on the blog.  Anyway, back to my point.  Last week I posted the poll over there to your right.  It’s sort of a trite, yes/no kind of a poll.  I was in a hurry and was getting tired of the old department store versus boutique poll and thought it was time for some poll freshen-ing up.  And the: Is it easy?or Is it hard? poll was the best I could do that day.   When I published the question I was feeling proud and sassy, as if I could go a lifetime without buying anything new.   Well today is another story.  To say “who’s idea was this anyway,” would be saying it lightly.  It’s more like who’s!@#$%^&*()_ing idea was this anyway?   You see we have had record breaking sunshine in Seattle and temperatures hovering around 58 degrees.  It’s like Mother’s Day in February which is giving me some insight into my very limited warm weather wardrobe.  What pray tell will I wear when the real mother’s day gets here?   At least in the winter you can layer a great coat over a bad outfit. Not so in warm weather.  Can you say painter’s smock?  Perhaps I’ll pick up the paintbrush again. 

So back to the poll.  Last week this diet business was easy….this week?  Un frickin’ bearable.  I want something bright, snappy and new.  The good news is…tomorrow I will likely feel differently.  Hang in there girls, and our one guy! 

Sincerly, your fearless leader

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O.K., there is only one other thing that gets me as excited as a new pair of jeans and that is….lighting (I have an art addiction too).  This weekend I had to return the brown sweater to Anthroplogie (thanks to my TGAAD friends, I was forced to return it).  Anyway, while there I stumbled onto a super cool light fixture that I want to make.  Who cares that I have no place to put it.  Anyway, those crafty people at Antrho have jerry-riged this chandelier that is a must see and must create for any woman looking for a creative outlet while trying to avoid shopping.   I know many of you are saying…please don’t make me go into an Anthropologie store on any condition.  Well I thought about that and decided to use my handy i- phone so you won’t have to make the trip yourselves.  Here it is.  Now keep in mind those little pears at the end of each wodden stick could be changed out every season with different shapes and colors.  Red balls, blue triangles, green pears, purple stars.  The options are endless.  Click on each picture to get a closer look. 

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Ladies,
I returned from a work trip in California a week ago and a box of clothes were waiting for me. You may remember the post Sally wrote about donating some of her cast-offs to poor, ole’ whiny me. True to her word, she sent me some fabulous items that she was no longer excited about: one Anthropologie sweater (perfect for cuddling up in), one black wrap sweater (totally me), a retro 80’s purple warm-up jacket (watch out fellow gym sluts) and a grey ruffly tank. TOTAL SCORE!

Over the weekend, I wore two of the four items and received glowing compliments from both the husband and several girlfriends. Granted, I was strutting my stuff like a was wearing new clothes, so maybe my friends were simply noticing my superior fashionista attitude rather than my cool threads, but either way– the addition of “new to me” clothes in my closet did wonders for my spirit.

I should add as a side note that while I was visiting the traditionally windy, foggy Bay Area, it was uncharacteristically HOT. It actually reached 100 degrees in downtown San Francisco- unheard of! I’d left fiery Texas with a suitcase full of Fall tweed and ended up wearing the only cool(ish) clothes I’d brought along: One white t-shirt and a pair of khakis. Talk about clothing deprived!

So… thank you Sally for welcoming me back to Texas in style.

I’d like to return the favor to anyone else on the the diet who needs a quick infusion of fashion. Anyone? I can have a box of clothes ready by the end of the week that no longer work for me, but might work for you.

Let me know. (And no, I won’t send you the white tee and khakis:)
IR

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Do you ever wonder if your e-mail spam is a reflection of who you are?  For a while there I was getting penis enlargment spam and lots of diet offers.  Oh and there was the Viagra spamathon that happend last year.  What does that say about me.  Will someone please tell them in e-mail land that I’m Sally and not Sal?  

Among the solicitations for elarged genetalia, weight loss plans and investment scams there is a lot of self inflicted fashion spam that I signed up for. 

Today I commited to officially ”unsubscribe” to the over 200 fashion/trend e-mails I get daily and weekly.  I don’t know what I was thinking when I signed up for all this “breaking news,” in the first place.  I was getting mail jammed in my e-mail box from the likes of Lyric Culture (a t-shirt company that sells t-shirts with lyrics on them), Nieman Marcus, Alabama Chanin (the Anthropologie of the rich and famous), Covet, Athleta, Nike and True Jeans, the list goes on and on, and on, and on.  And I am certain I am on the hot list for the Amazon Apparel marketing manager.  It is such a releif to unsubscribe and say “pooh pooh to the tigers in the zoo.”  I feel cleansed.  No more fashion spam for me ladies!

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So Saturday was my birthday. That means I got a card from Anthropologie to get 15% off of everything I buy during one shopping event. Since I am on board with the Weight Watchers of clothes shopping, I can not buy anything. Since I think retail is for idiots, this creates a lot of psychic dissonance for me. What to do? I can’t give the card to a friend because it is for ME and only me!
This appears to be getting more difficult on day 2.

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