I am exaggerating as usual, but I am starting to fret nonetheless. In the next few months I will have to decide what comes with me to a central London flat that will undoubtedly not have the spacious walk-in-wardrobe I have enjoyed here in Hong Kong.
I also live in fear of my husband setting eyes on everything behind those twelve closet doors in my favorite room in the house. I once saw this funny quote on instagram: what scares me most about dying is that my husband will sell all my bags for what I told him they cost.
Thank goodness I don't have much of a bag collection, but shoes are my personal weakness.
I have always bought things based on the principle that I want my clothes to last a long time, take on my character, and become part of me. Think of a tailor made tweed jacket for instance: in my theory of fashion this jacket would experience life with me from a job in my twenties to Sunday lunches in my forties with old friends. I suppose I have always liked the romance of clothes being part of our personal story, but as I have grown wiser and more sensible it's become obvious to me that this theory has major flaws:
- Fabric does not last a lifetime when worn often, and high quality fine cloth is virtually a perishable
- Bodies change
- If you enjoy the act of shopping regularly but don't throw anything away, you will accumulate so much stuff that you will not have enough time to wear it all.
Lisa Armstrong's great piece about closet organization touches on the psychology of owning stuff and here she talks to a woman who owns only a few things at the time, wears them to death, and replaces them when they fall apart. Considering the probable size of my future London closet, I am thinking this may not be a bad way to live.
A classic tweed jacket will always be a beautiful partner to ordinary blue jeans, but if you don't enjoy walking around in tattered clothes as much as an old-fashioned country gent, you will have to replace it now and then for a fresher model.
Today I am starting another no-shopping challenge until I sort out what in my wardrobe makes it onto that container ship and what will have to stay behind. I am hoping to get some audience participation in this project starting with this post here today.
I am hearing The Clash (because London is calling) in the back of my head now - should it stay or should it go now, if it goes there will be trouble, if it stays it will be double, so come on and let me know... should it stay or should it go?
Should they stay or should they go?
Three fabrics in one Peter Pilotto skirt, a mountain print contrasting with tweed. This is a beautiful skirt but feels dated. Should it stay or should it go?
These Céline shoes were EVERYTHING back in... 2013 I think. Everyone whose style I admired had these shoes. Aimee Song were them for months on end. Even though now they feel totally wrong, I loved these so much at one time that I don't know what to do. Should they stay or should they go?
Let me know what you think!
Hope you've had a great weekend,
Lots of love, Dianne