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)

 

Silent Sunday. Day 57 - Laura's birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL xxxx

Can your capsule wardobe survive the wear? My sandals haven't

Yesterday I completed my 8th week doing the clothes of my back challenge and I've begun to realise something a bit scarey. When you wear your clothes a lot - they wear out really fast!

I appreciate the rest of you probably knew that - but for me this is genuinely a bit of a shock. I was prepared for my clumsyness to rob me of an item (hello grey t-shirt, don't worry I have plans for you....), but I thought everything else would just tick along for the whole year. But already I can feel my tshirts getting thinner with each wash.

And worse my sandals are beginning to give up the ghost. 

On the third or fourth day of the challenge I went to the pub with some fellow dog owners and a couple of them expressed real concerns about my sandals. They all know how much time I spend walking and didn't think they'd last the course. I naturally poo pooed them explaining that the rules allowed me to wear my walking sandals when I was walking the dog (as long as it wasn't a social walk that'd end up with a coffee or a meal somewhere), so the sandals wouldn't really see that much punishment.

How wrong can one person be. What I think I'd forgotten about myself is three things:

• I walk a lot. Everywhere, all the time. Even not counting walking the dog I probably do 6-8000 steps a day
• I like to get my toes out. So if it's not raining I will be wearing sandals. So far I've worn them 37 out of 56 days. That is 66% of the time. I start wearing sandals in March and rarely put them away until October. If I continue to wear them at this rate for that long we are talking 146 days of wear.
• I'm not 23 anymore.

Not being 23 anymore might feel a bit irrelevant here - but it isn't. I truly wish that sometime in my late teens or early 20's someone had taken me aside and told me, really convinced me that continually slamming my heels against the pavement in paper thin soled shoes would come back to haunt me. I wore ballet shoes (note not ballet flats - actually wear to dance class when you are 6 ballet shoes) to tramp around Sheffield for years.

I can't do that anymore. The padding on my heel has worn down after years of abuse and feeling the pavement through my shoes hurts now. It sends shocks of pain up my legs, it's more than a little bit grim. And about two weeks ago this began to happen with my sandals. 

I panicked a bit about this - I don't really have room for another pair of shoes in the capsule ( I currently have 4 and have allowed for 5 with some winter boots), unless I'm prepared to sacrifice a winter jumper or a second pair of jeans. But equally there is another 109 days when I'm going to want to be wearing sandals to get through that I can't spend in pain.

So my first thought was to try and fix them. The lovely chaps at the cobblers put on new soles for me. This gave me an additional couple of millimeters between me and the pavement. What they couldn't do anything about was the wear on the cork, which has basically compressed as a result of an 11 stone woman taking 260,000 steps in them and so has lost it's shock absorbing qualities.

Insoles in sandals are a tricky issue, I always think a visible insole in a sandal is slightly revolting. Just a receptacle for sweat and odour  - a sanitary towel for the foot. This is not an option for me. But after a bit of a search around I found some gel pads in M&S. I took some photos of them here - they are not pretty! They are also super tricky to get into sandals that have anything that goes over the top of your foot.

Still eventually I got them in, they are invisible once the sandals are on and they are a tiny bit more comfortable. But if I'm honest will they see me through another 109 days of wear? Doubtful. And the attempt to get them fixed wasn't cheap either £25 for the new soles and £5 for the gel pads. I'm really aware that these repair attempts wouldn't be an option for some of the parents Contact a Family support, who are struggling to make ends meet due to the extra costs of raising a child with additional needs. And being comfortable in your shoes isn't a luxury.

Anyway, I think you can expect to see a new pair of sandals being added to this mix over the next week or so. Which means there is something else I won't be able to have come winter - so let's just hope it's a mild one!

Why am I putting myself through this you may ask? Because 65% of families with disabled children Contact A Family spoke to said they went without essentials like clothes in order to cover the additional costs of meeting their child's needs.

This is not ok and I'm raising money for Contact A Family and awareness of the challenges families face through the #clothesoffmyback extreme capsule challenge. You can help by donating to Contact A Family's work supporting these families here and by sharing my posts through your social networks.

 Finally for all you rules checkers out there here is what I wore on days 55 and 56

How to clear out your wardrobe (for people who aren't naturally minimalist)

Today I am 55 days into my capsule wardrobe challenge, and I have finally, finally got enough emotional distance from the clearing of my wardrobe to be able to talk about it without being overcome by waves of fear and nausea. 

I’ve gone from having clothes overflowing from my double wardrobe, massive chest of drawers and ottoman, as well as strategic piles of clothes around the house (I wrote about the ridiculous amount of clothes I owned here) to wearing just 21 items for the last two months and 35 all year. I’m really enjoying how clear my wardrobe looks now. 

Doesn't it just fill you with a sense of calm?

 I’ve read loads of blogs recently about what a beautiful and cathartic experience an extreme clear out of your wardrobe is.  I’m here to say it wasn’t like that for me.

Those people who felt exhilarated and like their rooms suddenly had more light are potentially aliens and definitely better at this than me. Because when I finished I just felt knackered and grubby, and incapable of taking another decision ever.

For me it was two days of self doubt, punctuated by gin drinking and despair. Followed by about three weeks of revisiting the stuff I decided to keep and reducing it bit by bit.

Everyone says you should start by getting all your clothes out of the wardrobe (& wherever else you keep them) and putting them in a pile. So that’s what I did. I created a small mountain of clothes on the bed which my dog immediately decided looked like the most comfortable place in the house and planted herself on top of. This meant that every time I wanted to look at a piece of clothing I had to negotiate with an increasingly resentful dog who just wanted to sleep on the super comfy new bed I’d made for her.

Anything that had direct contact with Squeak had dogs hair on it which meant that rather than having a keep/ don’t keep pile I had a rather more complicated system of keep, keep needs washing, keep needs dry cleaning, throw away, resell, resell needs washing, resell needs dry cleaning – it was mayhem. And I hadn’t properly delineated the piles so they kept drifting into one another.

Deciding what went in which pile was pretty hellish. Stuff I totally hated, or had holes in was easy, but everything else not so much. It turns out I’ve got a load of things that I had weird guilt about  the idea of getting rid of - Because who in their right mind gets rid of a perfectly serviceable striped t-shirt – even if they do have another 20 that are practically identical? And cashmere, you can’t throw away cashmere, or silk- they are investments – they are supposed to last a lifetime. And things I wore in 6^th form – I must love them right? Otherwise why would I still own them 17 YEARS later?

Long story short at the end of my first attempt at de cluttering my wardrobe I’d got the equivalent of a large suitcase worth of stuff to sell, 2 binbags to throw away, and 2 extra large vacuum pack bags designed to hold a families worth of duvets and pillows of things that I ‘needed’ to hold on to for next year (in case you are wondering there were 11 striped tshirts in that bag – because you know there might come a time when you can’t go into ANY SHOP ON THE HIGH STREET and find one).

So attempt number 1 was a bit of a fail. 

But over the next couple of weeks I got there. What worked for me was two things.

The first was instigating a strict rule – once something went in the sell pile it couldn’t come back out. This just meant I’ve emotionally divorced myself from anything in those piles and have happily started to sell them without looking back.

The second was that I didn’t let myself put any of the stuff I was saving back into my drawers or cupboards. They had to stay vacuum packed and in my bedroom. And those vacuum packs are huge and ugly so that was a hugely motivating factor over the next few weeks.

I grew to hate the sight of those bags, and so finally I made a deal with myself. I was allowed to put aside some clothes for next year, and I’d let myself use two of my drawers to put them in. Everything I wanted to keep had to fit in those drawers, and if it didn’t then it’d have to go in the vacuum pack and I’d have to keep the pack in sight of my bed all year.

Let me tell you it is much easier to get rid of a striped t-shirt when it is a choice between getting rid of it or living with the first thing you see every morning being a plastic and beige monstrosity filled with guilt clothes. 

So those are my clear out tips:

·         Once you’ve decided something can go don’t look back

·         If you have to own storage make it ugly – that way you are motivated not to need it!

Remember if you are having a clear out you can raise money for Contact a Family by selling your clothes on ebay and donating some or all of the sale price. It’s really easy and ebay donate the money for you automatically once the sale goes through. I wrote a helpful how to guide if you want to give this a go.

Alternatively you could just sponsor me to keep going here.

And finally for all you rule checkers here is what I wore on days 52,53 & 54

Take care folks,

Ed x