In July of this year, I embarked on a three-month No New Clothes challenge (thanks, Remake) and opted—instead of allowing myself to buy secondhand clothing (since it is no new clothes)—to not buy any clothing at all.
I failed. I purchased a dress and cotton T-shirt in anticipation of high temps on my trip to New Mexico for a Creative Change retreat. But, beyond that, over the last three months, I found myself less and less enticed by the prospect of buying clothes and far more excited to spend my money on experiences and things that, turns out, I could easily afford when I when I folded in the savings from my former fashion budget.
Now, that’s not to say I really considered myself an avid shopper, and especially not an over-shopper. The average American now buys a piece of clothing every 5 days: I’d say I averaged out to twice that, every ten days, but that’s still roughly 36 pieces of clothing a year. And even taking into account how many pieces I needed to replace due to some recent weight changes, that’s a not-insignificant number of garments that I probably didn’t really need in the grand scheme of things. But when I think about my past as an undeniable overconsumer, I am happy for how far I’ve come from being simply fashion-conscious, to fully conscious of fashion and its effects on the planet, the people on it, and me. I am happy that there is no blouse unworn in my wardrobe, and that even if I give into my urges to shop more than I’d like, nothing goes to waste—a big departure from my old wardrobe that used to take up half my converted dining room bedroom. I am happy that I have managed to control my impulsive purchases, and resist the siren call of sales and trends. And now that I’ve decided to extend my No Buy to the end of the year, I am happy that I feel no sense of loss at all.
But, I’m unique. I’ve made it a point to think about these things. You’re unique, too. That’s why you read this newsletter. So, let’s say I challenged you to not shop for three months, or maybe six months, or maybe an entire year: would you be able to and still feel fulfilled?
Today, I’m making the case for a deliberate, long-term, focused No Buy specifically for clothing. I am not including things like underwear, jewelry, or other wearables like shoes, and I’ll get into why in just a second. But first:
Why Do We Shop?
There are a lot of half-formed thoughts in my head about the differences between the urge to shop vs. the urge to buy something vs. the urge to have something. I believe there is an urge to simply browse (i.e. window shopping, though we typically do it from our phones now) that is fully divorced from the desire to consume. Pretty things are nice. And the right retailers—especially online—can serve as anything from style inspiration to a sort of museum of beauty. While I don’t think it fits the definition of a “hobby” (something typically done for enrichment), at its core, I believe shopping is fairly neutral. But many people who consider themselves “shopaholics” or “avid shoppers” (or who should) aren’t shopping for the sake of shopping, they’re shopping for the sake of buying something, or, for the sake of having something.
Those who shop for the sake of buying something tend to be shopping as an emotional response, either negative or positive, it doesn’t matter. It’s the “I deserve a little treat” sentiment we see everyday on social media to justify anything from a Frappuccino to $700 Shein hauls.
Shopping for the sake of having something, though, is a little more complex. In many ways, I feel like it’s a trauma response: those of us who grew up in poverty, in a constant state of deprivation, may see having many possessions as a symbol of abundance that we never had in our early lives. There is the precursor to hoarding, the “just in case” mindset, where we buy things simply because we can and don’t know when we’ll be able to again, just in case we need it at some point.
I sympathize with all of these reasonings, but just because something is justifiable, doesn’t mean it’s healthy, or unchangeable. Our habits shape who we are, and, unfortunately, a habit of overbuying can eventually shape us into someone who consumes, and not much else. You have more value than your things. Going without shopping—on purpose, even if you’re financially able to buy something—is a big step toward the healing process, especially if you’re taking note of when you get the strongest urge to shop and what you’re getting the urge to buy.
Delayed Gratification
When I first started my No Buy, alongside it, I started a wishlist on my Notes App. I’ve had plenty of these wishlists before, with many of them growing to over 100 items and inspiring at least a handful of purchases. I figured the same would happen at the end of my No Buy: that I’d collect and collect and, after three months of depriving myself of shopping, I’d have some exciting new things to pull the trigger on. Except…that’s not what happened, at all. In fact, today, almost three months later, I have the exact same six items on the list as when I started it and they’re all suggestions of items (i.e. “gold mules” or “sheer black blouse” rather than specific links to things) that have been on my list for well over a year.
In How to Shop Like a Stylist, I said:
No matter how much I want something, I can very rarely justify pulling the trigger in that moment. Not to mention, I save so much money by waiting, either by realizing I don’t really need that thing, or by being patient until the price drops.
And that will always be true, but where my goal with waiting while I’m actively shopping is typically to save money, when I’m not actively shopping, I believe my mind went somewhere entirely different: I believe I successfully delayed my gratification so long that I stopped needing gratification in that way.
Let’s call it Buy Brain. When your Buy Brain is activated, there is a sense of dissatisfaction that comes with seeing something new that you want. Not in that thing, and not even necessarily in yourself or your wardrobe, but in not having it. Whether you think about it ever again or not, in that moment, it triggers a feeling of having a gap somewhere. Either you buy the thing then, or you wait to buy it, or you move on and buy something else but with Buy Brain, either way, you’re buying something.
But when your Buy Brain is deactivated—like by a No Buy—that feeling of dissatisfaction gradually fades away. Instead of constantly thinking about what you want, you’re more able to focus on what you have. That’s not to say you stop needing things, but, it becomes easier to discern between what will actually contribute value to your wardrobe and what just seems nice to have.
What Makes a Good Wardrobe?
I made it a point to focus my own No Buy on clothes, specifically, and that’s not just because I needed a little wiggle room to wean myself off swiping my debit card. One of the biggest upsides of going without buying garments was being able to shift my focus to the other things that we wear but that often end up as afterthoughts: underwear, shoes, and accessories.
How many of us have worn out or ill-fitting underwear we’ve had for years? How many of us end up defaulting to the same old pair of black shoes even when our outfit has no black? How many times have you looked in the mirror at an outfit you like, or even love, and thought: “this feels incomplete?”
I wrote in the caption of the post above:
I kid you not, 90% of my closet audits show a severe neglect of these three categories, when they’re the most important parts of any functional wardrobe. For instance, if you’re busty like me, no doubt you’ve put on a top or dress before and thought “ew” before trying it again with a different bra and realizing: oh…it’s actually amazing. But, beyond the cosmetic qualities, a good, well-fitting bra can make all the difference when it comes to back and neck pain, similar to the way good shoes can literally change your life, while bad shoes can cause everything from bunions to permanent nerve damage and mobility issues.
Last, and certainly not least, and to quote myself: an outfit without accessories is just clothes.
Maybe your No Buy doesn’t require you to quit shopping cold turkey, but to re-focus where in your wardrobe you’re investing your money. Maybe your No Buy should center on reducing the amount of new clothes you’re introducing into your wardrobe and instead honing your secondhand and vintage hunting skills. Or maybe you don’t need anything at all, and you don’t realize it because you don’t give yourself enough time to get acquainted with your new purchases before purchasing something else. No matter what you personally need, most of us could (and should) shop a little less.