Filling in the gaps.

It stormed today, so between trips to the basement to hide from the tornadoes, I spent the afternoon editing my closet.

Yesterday I finally got a chance to buy a bunch of spring clothes -- the first time since I dropped five dress sizes -- because two springs ago I was pregnant, and last spring I had been recently pregnant (too recent to buy new spring clothes).  I had picked up some odds and ends along the way, like some hiking skorts and a dress or two, and there were a couple of skirts that I bought on sale in the off season, and some stuff that's good year round like twill pants.  I had plenty of autumn-type things, which looks a little out of place but at least it works with the kind of weather we're having.  So it's not like I had nothing to wear.

Still, yesterday -- after Mark got back from nine days in Europe on (mostly) business -- I got a chance to steal away with a written list of wardrobe gaps.  

I never liked clothes-shopping until I learned to shop with a list.  I used to have this theory that it worked like this:   you go to the mall, and you try on a bunch of stuff, and if it remotely looks okay and doesn't cost too much, you buy it.  And then you take it home and stick it in your closet and it mixes in with all the other random stuff that looked okay and didn't cost too much.  Not that planning was never a part of it:  Sure, you might go to the mall thinking "I need pants," or "I need a bra," but you still try on a bunch of random stuff and buy some.  

For a while I thought the secret was to pick one catalogue store (Lands' End was it for a while), pick one size pants, one size shirt, etc., and then just order some from time to time.  That worked pretty well.  Boring, but well enough.

Then, a few years ago, I had to buy an entire wardrobe of clothes.  Twice.  The first time (passing through sizes eight and six on my way down) I screwed it up.  I bought  things randomly.  I had too many pants and not enough shirts.  I had duplicates in one color and none in another.  I spent way too much money because I was over-eager.  I did not do it well.  

Fortunately, I had to do it again a few months later when those sixes and eights were, in turn, too big.  And this second time I did it right, or at least much better.

It was late fall, and I sat down and made a list.  I wanted my new wardrobe to be small, efficient, and made of better-quality stuff than I had been wearing before.  If it was going to be small and nimble, I needed as few clashes as possible.  And as few extraneous things as possible.

The first narrowing decision I made was this:  Black would be my neutral color for the rest of my life.  I was never again going to buy a pair of brown shoes, or a brown belt, or a brown bag.  And I would never again buy an outfit that required brown shoes, belt, bag, or any other brown accessory.  Same for navy.  I still have one pair of brown heels (just in case -- you never know), but I have sworn off any new brown and I have sworn off any new navy.  

This has turned out to be wonderfully focusing.  It's not for everyone, I guess.  I am sure there are lots of people who just love to wear black or navy or brown anytime they want, and who would find it too constraining to stick with just one.    But I love to wear black, and it saves me money in accessories and  in clothes not to introduce that variable.    It's not strictly the only neutral I wear -- I also have things that are charcoal or heather gray, which of course work with black, and I have some metallic things like silver ballet flats, which of course work with black, and I found a faux leopard-print nylon bag a couple of weeks ago that I really love and that, you guessed it, works with black.  But my point is, by swearing off anything that I couldn't wear with black, I saved myself a lot of closet space and, I hope, money.

Anyway, I sat down back then and made my list.  It was fall.  I blogged my list here.

It was actually fun to go shopping for clothes with a list in hand (not to mention that, thanks to the weight loss, for once in my life, I really did need to buy clothes).  Instead of wandering randomly through stores, I could scan the racks purposefully and quickly figure out whether there was anything worth looking at more closely.   I knocked out a lot of the items on one marathon shopping day during the Christmas season with my best friend from high school.  I carried the list around with me and snagged items from it here and there when I saw a good price.  And I managed to put together a decent, but small, cool-weather wardrobe of dressy-enough clothes, in the not-very-original but certainly classic black-white-gray-red palette.  

There are still some items on the autumn list that I don't have.  I never did get a suit (and I'm not sure I need to now).  Which means that I still have some things to keep an eye out for.  And I made some substitutions, like a black trench-type raincoat instead of a leather coat, which has turned out to be a better choice anyway.

So, that was a few autumns ago.  Finally it is time to complete my spring wardrobe.  And after I pulled all the extra stuff out of my closet -- I realized that I do not have to keep everything that fits me in my closet all the time, I can put some things away for fall even if only to save the red and green stuff for the holidays -- I really had quite a short list.  One red or orange hiking skort, a pair of light-colored performance-wear capris, one dress, and several good-quality tee shirts in black, white, and a couple of spring colors.   I struck out at REI (what is with their clothes this year?  Ugly) but did fine at two ordinary mall stores, and got everything I wanted on sale.  (OK, I think I paid full price for the capris.  It was worth it to check them off the list.  Time is sometimes money.)

I think the best thing about it is that I have made enough room in my closet that I can see everything at a single glance.  There's less in there (I took time today to get rid of a lot of too-big clothes that were still filling up space), but it's better stuff.

UPDATE.  Just to show you what I mean by "small but efficient," here are some pictures.

 

The dresser is full of things like socks, underwear, pajamas, workout clothes, bathing suits, and broken digital thermometers.  So it doesn't really count.  Also, I have another closet in which most of my winter things are living, and also the maternity clothes.  So I haven't pared everything down.

But on a daily basis, this is what I see:  Six colored tee shirts, eight tee shirts (different sleeve lengths) that are either black or white, three button down shirts, one white cardigan;  one jeans, one twill pants, one capri pants, four skirts, two pair shorts.  Also four dresses.  

This being Minnesota, a few sweaters are still up on the shelf, with the out of season shoes.

 
Note the lack of brown or navy shoes.   (Also, you can't see my favorite sandals because they are on my feet.  Or my Tevas because they live in the car or the mudroom.)

I think this is a pretty well-edited wardrobe.

Comments

[Delores]

This is a very motivating post!

[Jennifer]

Do you have a pair of black patent leather flats or pumps? I find those to be the best color to wear with blue, especially if you pair a white/navy sailor type shirt with a pair of blue jeans. But I hear you about brown. I have two pairs of brown boots that I bought years ago from Coach that seemed like a huge purchase at the time, but have literally never gone out of style and I can wear them with just about anything, including black! But that's for the Fall/Winter wardrobe.

[Christy P.]

Think I can live forever without navy, particularly since I usually dress in the dark, and it is too easy to mix up with black, but I just don't see myself being able to limit to either black/grey or brown. For packing for a single trip though, I limit to one or the other.

[bearing]

Re: mixing navy with black, I am nearly unable to tell them apart in any light. Even if I'm holding a black sock and a navy sock in my hands right next to each other, I really have to stare at them. Actually, I had all but ditched navy some years back for that reason. Not having missed it, I decided to ditch brown too.

It's kind of an antisocial, calculating approach to fashion, I guess, but it solves a lot of problems for me. And you can't deny that it is conducive to simplicity and reduced consumption!

[Bridget]

Such insight into how to simplify a wardrobe... thank you!
I have been detaching from many clothes I simply don't wear or don't feel comfortable wearing. It's a process, and your post will surely help!
Thank you.

[Amber]

Now this is an approach to fashion I get! I am not quite sure I could completely jettison black from my wardrobe (brown is my first choice, but still...) but I really like the idea of simplfying like this. My non-maternity summer clothes are I intentionally like this (all brown or blue bottoms with solid, somewhat bright tops that go with everything - and I loved it last summer. I do wish I could find cotton tops that will last more than one summer, but oh well... Still it was great. I never managed to do the same w/ the other seasons though. I just couldn't visualize what I wanted in the same way.

And now that I'm 24 weeks pregnant, I'm trying to cobble together a summer wardrobe from previous pregnancies... None of which saw me this huge at this time of year. Really, I should have tried to have all the kids in the same season... It would make the whole maternity wardrobe thing so much easier!

[MrsDarwin]

Amber, congratulations!

[Amber]

Thanks, Mrs. D!