January 22, 2016

or, the unravelling of my sartorial mindfulness 

If you're looking for a bit of New Year's resolution-related schadenfreude you've come to the right blog. Hands up if you too bought into the 2015 capsule wardrobe craze, what I call the 3Ms - Marie Kondo, mindfulness, and minimalism. Like a true fashion blog-reading sheeple, I envisioned my new life as an Pinterest-perfect vision of inner calm whose carefully curated aesthetic belies a sort of neurotic obsessive-compulsion -  a (well-decorated) sanitarium of white marble with the occasional rose gold accent. I would do away with attachment to worldly possessions (plus 20 pairs of shoes that gnaw my feet), let go of everything that doesn't spark joy, and be clothed in nary but smugness and a seemingly never-ending array of #inspired ensembles from just 33 well-tailored classics, displayed ever so tastefully on perfectly spaced apart Hay copper hangers hanging on a single freestanding rail I call le closet. Wardrobes are for Real Housewives, slaves to consumerism, and basics, don't you know? 
But basic is what I am - I can't even follow through with a trend let alone execute the instructions properly. The premise of a capsule wardrobe is that you select thirty or so pieces per season and enforce a shopping embargo until the month before the next season, for which you then seek a few new additions for your next capsule wardrobe. My winter wardrobe was supposed to be three fur coats (one wolf fur, one rabbit fur, and one fox fur) and an assassin-sleek array of all black errthang. To reward my sartorial discipline I would, in February, treat myself to a shopping spree of all things camel, taupe, and neutrals for Spring. I regret to report that I've already bought next season's neutrals and have started wearing them. My winter capsule wardrobe? Banished to Isengard ie. that God-forsaken blackhole that is my walk-in-wardrobe, which is just a spare room where my clothes live in...
So here's my ode to non-commitment and New Year's resolutions going down the drain: my 'jumped the gun' Spring uniform starring the softest-ever cashmere-silk knit dress. Being a knitwit never felt so good...


Photography by Henry Ridley-Cook, edit by me.

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