A long overdue book recommendation, I know you'll like this one: Overdressed
Sometimes I'm a little behind the times, especially about reading. I love reading, but sometimes there are phases where I don't find the time. Luckily, this holiday break reset my habit, and this week I finished a book I started back in January 2013. Ha!
And in fact, since many others before me have a written excellent book reviews, I'll spare you the academic review of this excellent book and share my new values on this important topic, influenced in part by the book but really have been brewing inside me for a while.
Really briefly--Overdressed: The High Cost of Cheap Fashion is about how "fast fashion" and mass-produced clothing availability has increased so much since the 1970's and '80's, and the societal, environmental, and cultural impacts it's having on us and the rest of the world. (Now, if you're reading this blog, you've probably been interested in being self-sufficient and fixing damaged clothes, making your own of a new trend you love, or saving money or time as well as getting exactly the clothes you want. So you probably have a leg up on most people in our culture--we care about fashion, sure, but we also want to be practical about doing things ourselves and mindful of the money we spend on clothes.)
Rather than review the book, I'll point you to these articles and interviews--check them out, and the book on Amazon. And on to the discussion!
Reviews and Interviews
- Overdressed: About the book
- Interview with author Elizabeth Cline on Coletterie
- Huffington Post--some facts from the book
- Fresh Air interview with author Elizabeth Cline
What's a thrifty DIYer to think?
I know how to shop.
My mom lent me this book after she read it, having heard the author on Fresh Air. My mom and I have always been good shoppers. She taught me how to navigate a store, and when I started managing my own money in high school, I developed an eye and taste for cheap fast fashion and deep discounts so I could afford to build my wardrobe with colorful, trendy, brand-conscious finds. Shortly thereafter my mom and I both became very skilled at thrift store shopping. (The big Goodwill by her house still has some excellent pieces, not all of which have been marked up since the trend in secondhand shopping that has occurred in the past 5+ years.)
My mom does know quality, but to my young shopper's attitude, cheap, trendy pieces were more important than nice tailoring for the most part. One time in high school, I remember I counted and had 68 pairs of shoes. (I think about 20 of them were a rainbow of flip-flop choices, but still.) My first "real" job after grad school, I remember I wore a different outfit to the office every single day, combining my pencil skirts, brightly colored cheap sweaters, print tops, Target flared suit pants, and about 10 pairs of heels for the 5 or 6 months that I worked there. (And this was in government, not some creative or trend-based field! I was the only one who did this.)
There was a time when then-boyfriend/now-husband moved 4 or 5 times in as many years, and every time I would pack up my massive closet of cheap and thrift and finds in boxes, duffels, and garbage bags and unpack them in our new place, sometimes with very small closets! But, my closet was small in the house I grew up in, too, so I was very used to creative solutions for overflowing clothing storage, like bookcases outside the closet and seasonal boxes under multiple beds.
So really, having MORE, new, trendy clothing had been my goal since I was able to shop. Not until the past 2 years or so has my attitude dramatically shifted. I've started getting rid of things en masse, no longer worrying as much that I spent money on them and only wore them once (but it's still hard).
Now, I feel a little encumbered by the things that I own and don't love... all the (remaining) tops and sweaters that don't quite fit, or are a little pill-ey, or don't go with anything except black jeans. All remaining the jewelry with the worn off finishes and exposed cheap metal. All the remaining shoes that hurt my feet and only look good in pictures.
My mom does know quality, but to my young shopper's attitude, cheap, trendy pieces were more important than nice tailoring for the most part. One time in high school, I remember I counted and had 68 pairs of shoes. (I think about 20 of them were a rainbow of flip-flop choices, but still.) My first "real" job after grad school, I remember I wore a different outfit to the office every single day, combining my pencil skirts, brightly colored cheap sweaters, print tops, Target flared suit pants, and about 10 pairs of heels for the 5 or 6 months that I worked there. (And this was in government, not some creative or trend-based field! I was the only one who did this.)
There was a time when then-boyfriend/now-husband moved 4 or 5 times in as many years, and every time I would pack up my massive closet of cheap and thrift and finds in boxes, duffels, and garbage bags and unpack them in our new place, sometimes with very small closets! But, my closet was small in the house I grew up in, too, so I was very used to creative solutions for overflowing clothing storage, like bookcases outside the closet and seasonal boxes under multiple beds.
Get rid of stuff, own less
So really, having MORE, new, trendy clothing had been my goal since I was able to shop. Not until the past 2 years or so has my attitude dramatically shifted. I've started getting rid of things en masse, no longer worrying as much that I spent money on them and only wore them once (but it's still hard).
Now, I feel a little encumbered by the things that I own and don't love... all the (remaining) tops and sweaters that don't quite fit, or are a little pill-ey, or don't go with anything except black jeans. All remaining the jewelry with the worn off finishes and exposed cheap metal. All the remaining shoes that hurt my feet and only look good in pictures.
Overdressed gave me some sobering facts about how the cheap clothes in my closet made it to the mall or big box store I bought them at. It also gave me, a long-time thrift shopper, a broader perspective on the secondhand clothing industry (shocker: there's actually too much supply donated, a surplus over the demand both domestically and overseas). And it reminded me of some serious environmental impacts of dying and manufacturing of the base goods that go into new clothes, particularly cheap fibers.
Couple that with my recent desire to own less stuff, and the inspirations I've seen lately for the "capsule wardrobe" concept (not a new one, but has recently been popularized by blogs like Un-Fancy--How to Build a Capsule Wardrobe and her seasonal examples, as well as Elise Blaha's capsule wardrobes). And a few years back, the 30x30 challenge lots of folks did. These "challenges" show you that you can live with only 30 or 40 pieces in your closet for a month or a season. They never held much appeal for me, but now, I kind of want to live with a capsule forever.
I wear some combination of grey, black, mottled black, camel, and denim pretty much every day. I don't need all the cheap clothes taking up room in my wardrobe. Why don't I spend more money on fewer, nicer pieces? It's a hard shift to make when the draw of very trendy pieces for very low prices surrounds me in the sale emails and store windows I pass at my usual fast fashion favorites. (Especially since starting January 2015, my company got rid of Casual Fridays but now allows nice jeans any day of the week, as long as no client meetings--cut my wardrobe needs down significantly.)
Like, I don't need all this jewelry. I don't wear most of it. And this is the pared down collection!
Photos by Nakalan McKay
I guess I'm saying, I feel like I've been building up to a place of shopping less, buying nicer stuff, being more conscious of my wardrobe. But it's still hard to take the plunge and get rid of all the junky stuff and only shop from brands with good social and environmental practices, paying a fair price for what I wear.
Have you read the book, or tried a capsule wardrobe?