What does the way I shop say about me?

So since last week’s emotional shopping incident I’ve been thinking a lot about what is in my wardrobe and the reasons I buy things. I wondered what my shopping habits said about me and what impact this 12 month long challenge might have on me.

And here’s what I came up with:

I don’t like to feel negative emotions

Ok so at this point I guess you are thinking:

 a) no one likes to feel negative emotions   
and
 b) didn’t you cover this last week?

But what I mean is that it’s not just that I don’t like to feel these emotions but actually that I don’t let myself. And that’s crucial because most of the really emotionally healthy people I know let themselves experience what they are feeling.

I don’t. I distract myself, I don’t want to talk about it, or think about it. So I choose the one activity where I can successfully do neither – shopping.

No wonder I hate Oxford Street. It turns out I exclusively go there when I feel rubbish. I went back over every crappy day I remember in the last few years and where did I find myself at the end of it? Shopping.

I estimate about 50% of my clothes are misery garbs. Which is, you know, delightful.

I’m weirdly over concerned with what is expected of me

What does smart casual mean? What does one wear to a christening? To the ballet? To a house party in Dalston or a Hoxton club night?

Guaranteed I’ve bought a new outfit for each of these occasions.

Which is stupid because people who like you, or want to like you don’t give a crap what you are wearing. And if you are hanging out with people who don’t already like you, or aren’t open to liking you then stop it. Seriously go to another party. One where the nice people are.

So why have I spent so much time and money buying things that let me ‘fit in’ at these things? Because fitting in is comfortable. We all want to do it, and we chase that feeling of being recogmnised and approved of by people we like. Except that when we wear things that don’t fit who we are we feel inauthentic and uncomfortable and people pick that up. Intellectually I know this - sadly it doesn't prevent me from shopping to fit in really regularly.

I can’t believe how many clothes I own that I’ve only worn once because they were bought for a particular occasion. Or how many occassions I have gone to essentially in disguise, robbing myself of self expression and potentially giving people completely the wrong impression about me.

This year not having the option of buying stuff for a particular event will be a gift. Hopefully 10 more months of not having the opportunity to 'dress up' as someone different will break me of the habit.

I really enjoy not being broke

I mean come on – if you are used to having nothing to spare it’s exciting to be able to waste money.

Matt & I have spent years, YEARS, struggling to pay our rent. Living in basements, and tiny scuzzy flats, living off chana masala and beans on toast. And we were happy enough. But suddenly over the last couple of years we’ve had a bit to spare.More than we need in fact.

And because I’ve never had anything to spare I don’t WASTE exactly. I pretty much exclusively buy in the sale or from charity shops. But it is fun not to have to worry about every penny spent and somehow this has gone from treating myself on occasion to consumption for it’s own sake. Because why wouldn't I buy that £6 tshirt, if I can afford it? What a giddy rush to be able to afford it! This kind of behaviour is not really ok, and if I’m going to do it, it should be on actual consumables like wine. Rather than stuff that I get guilt every time I look at.

I try to emulate people I admire by copying their style

Not deliberately but it definitely happens. I’ve lost count of the number of clothes I’ve passed on to the people I must have been thinking about when I bought them.

The thing is I might not have nailed down my personal style. But one thing I have  got nailed is my excellent taste in friends. There is not a single one of my friends who I am not immensely proud of and who I don’t want to emulate in some way.

I want to be:

• As considered as Cat,
• As empathic and spontaneous as Charlie,
• As emotionally intelligent as Chrissy,
• As nurturing as Kristin,
• As forthright as Racheal,
• As dryly funny as Sarah,
• As committed to decency and kindness as Ange,
• I want to be as overflowing with joy as Laura and Bob,
• As honest with myself as Jo,
• And I want Sean’s ability to get people to be their best selves around him, Donna’s creativity, Heather’s honesty and Hannah’s absolute commitment to being who she is.

I want all of these things. And my best chance of getting them is spending my time with these people – not trying to look like them.

Again – hopefully the next 10 months is long enough to learn this lesson.

Anyway – that’s what I’ve learnt about me. And I have 10 more months to keep on learning. So what does the way you shop say about you?

And as usual – for you rules checkers – here is what I’ve worn this week

Saturday (Day 64)

Sunday (Day 65)

Monday (Day 66)

Tuesday (Day 67)

Wednesday (Day 68)

Thursday (Day 69)

For clarification - one of my friends suggested it looked like I was doing something naughty here. I am not - I'm attempting to play a slide whistle.

Friday (Day 70)

Saturday (Day 71)

Getting grease stains out of a silk t-shirt

I think I've mentioned in a couple of blogs that I ruined my grey t-shirt quite early in the challenge.

At the age of 35 you would hope that I could eat a chicken without getting the skin on me. And if I can't live up to the standards of mess free eating expected of a 5 year old you'd at least hope I'd spot it soon enough to prevent permanent damage.

But nope on both counts.

I did manage to attach some greasy skin to my tshirt, and then popped it in the linen bin without noticing which meant it was a week before I realised my mistake. And in that week the grease and my t-sirt had a bit of a love affair, resulting in a grease stain right on the boob. Because of how pale this tshirt was this basically made the bloody thing unwearable - or at least unwearable to work. And what with only having 4 tshirts at the moment - I cannot afford for even 1 to be out of action.

So I asked around for getting rid of grease suggestions. I was kind of amazed at the response - some of my most unlikely friends had suggestions handed down from grandparents that they swore worked (and perhaps would have done on a less established stain). I tried pretty much everything suggested (except where some of my less trustworthy friends suggested that I just buy an identical new one - CHEATS). Unfortunately nothing worked.

So instead I dyed it.There are some super lovely dyed silk t-shirts out there - take this insanely expensive example from Harvey Nicks.


I considered trying to do this with mine - but honestly I can't risk ruining this tshirt so in the end I chickened out (see what I did there?). At went for a simple single colour dye job.

The whole thing took an hour and less than £10 of materials. 

So here's the stuff I used

First I had to dilute the dye

Then add it to salted water

Then add in the T-shirt for 60 minutes. Stirring loads.

Before

After!

I'm pretty pleased with the result. I actually prefer the new colour to the origianal. ( though predictably first time I wore it I spilt noodles down it but ho hum!)
























What this has taught me is that I either need to eat more carefully, or make a bib one of my items !

If you want to encourage me to keep going with this (I have 10 months left and as you can probably tell I'm super clumsy so this'll be a proper challenge!) you can sponsor me. It's for a very good cause!

Emotional shopping and capsule wardrobes don't mix

Hello folks,

So this week I've discovered that I'm an emotional shopper.

I've had a load on this week, not slept very well and put myself under pressure. Those of you that know me know that I have high standards for myself, and yesterday I had one of those moments when I was sure that I hadn't met them.

What's interesting is the way I reacted.

I've been doing the challenge for 2 months now. It's been a good couple of months and I haven't really thought about my relationship with shopping. Partly because at the beginning of the challenge I was shopping, the trainers, denim shirt and both the skirts are new, as is the lovely dress from toast.

So last night feeling like I'd let myself down and knowing that Matt was working late I found myself heading to Oxford Street. Since the death of the sandals last week I've written myself a list of everything I need to manage the year. 35 items is feeling like a very small number right now. Top of the list is another pair of jeans. I simply won't survive the winter without them.

I knew exactly what I wanted. A pair of dark wash levis in the same size and cut as the jeans I'm already wearing. The idea of 'treating myself' was a wonderful distraction.

But then those jeans weren't in stock. And even though I knew exactly what I wanted I went to three more shops that I knew didn't stock Levis, and when I finally faced the fact that I wasn't going to be able to 'treat myself' I sat in the Urban Outfitters changing room and had a little cry.

Now I'm not daft. I know that my little moment wasn't about jeans. But I wonder how often over the last few years I've distracted myself from thought and feelings I didn't want to have by shopping.

It's not very healthy is it?

If I hadn't have been doing this challenge I know exactly how last night would have gone. I'd have spent a couple of hours at the shops and come home with some new bits that I didn't neccessarily love - that I'd wear a couple of times and then forget about. They'd take up space in my house, empty a portion of my bank account, and serve no real purpose except for helping me avoid addressing anything that worried me.

I'm a cheerful person, and it's quite important to me that that's how people see me. So when I'm worried, or my confidence has taken a knock I distract myself. And having my standard distraction no longer available to me was a bit of a shock last night. And I had to face the fact that for the next 10 months I'm going to have to do without it.

So how did I manage? Well I did two very healthy things that really really helped.

First I called my Mum. Mum's are great aren't they? My mum in particular always tells me the same thing when I'm worried and it always helps. I'm not going to go into it here (it deserves it's own blog really). But it was good.
 
Then I messaged some of my girlfriends. I'm rubbish at asking for help even though I know with this particular gang of ladies it is always freely and lovingly given. But I knew that sitting in urban outfitters for the rest of the evening sobbing was not an option. So I sent a 'guys I'm miserable & don't like myself very much' message to our WhatsApp group. And immediately got my soul shored up by loving, supportive and helpful responses from women I love and respect. And who- even when I'm grotty and insane somehow love me. 

I would NEVER, never have done this normally, no matter how healthy my adult self knows asking for help is, the teenage (asshole) part of me thinks is attention seeking and therefore very not cool.

So there you go. Maybe this capsule wardrobe thing won't just raise cash for charity - maybe it'll lead to some personal growth, and the final banishment of my inner teenage asshole.

So you know if you want to donate - you'll be helping me grow into a proper adult as well as supporting familes of disabled children. A 2 for 1 if you will.

Take care Folks

And for you list checkers here is the weeks outfits

Sunday (Day 58)

 

Monday (Day 59)

 Tuesday (Day 60)

Wednesday (Day 61)

 

Thursday (Day 62)

 

Friday (Day 63)