Hidden emotions

I've been told that my year hiatus from clothes shopping is not such a big deal since I'm not such a big clothes shopper.

Now I admitted that I wasn't such a big clothes shopper from the beginning; however examining the emotions of and behind not shopping for a year doesn't mean that you need to be a "real" or big shopper. Look at my friend S, who is not shopping because of the environmental impact. Or Fabulously Broke in the City, who is not shopping because of money. Experimenting with not shopping isn't a contest between women, like whose experience with childbirth was worse. Think of it more like a diet - even thin women can work on improving their diets.

I wonder what hidden emotions are involved behind those statements of "it's easy for you, you're not a 'real' shopper". Guilt? Inadequacy? Jealousy? And what about my feelings when I hear these statements? Anger? Doubt? Shame? While I examine the emotions involved in actually going out and buying things, the emotions hidden behind the comments also must be examined. I asked for it, so bring it on!

Unique to the shopping experience? Probably not. But definitely worth examining during these next 9.75 months as part of the experiment.

Not alone in the blogoshpere

A little research on other blogs resulted in the discovery of another blogger taking a break from shopping for clothes/accessories, albeit more for money reasons.  Fabulously Broke In The City (http://fabulouslybrokeinthecity.blogspot.com) 
revealed this in a comment on a blog about clothes and fashion where That Dress Is Divine...Now Where's Mine? mused about how shopping sometimes makes her feel unfulfilled because of an expectation that clothes will change her life. 

(http://iwantthatdress.blogspot.com/2008/01/shopping-and-false-fulfillment.html)

Good to know one is not alone in the world.

With others talking about emotional shopping and going on hiatus, combined with the "deepening recession fears" AND the end of the January sales, I'm hoping my visit with friends in London next weekend who want to shop won't be too painful.  Normally I wouldn't even be worried, but I'm going to a city where I actually think I find unique items that look good and fit well. But then, is that really true? I mean, isn't that why I'm here on blogspot - because often I'm so wrong about what fits well and looks good? I'm just too gullible when it comes to fashion or the pretense of fashion. (Remember the purple cape, BluesTraveler, remember the purple cape.)

I just had braces placed on my teeth because I've always wanted straight teeth. I constantly reassure myself that the pain inside my mouth will be worth it when I smile in 15 months. (I do while wondering when this pain and discomfort will stop already! No one warned me it would take this long or be this bad. And why has not orthodontist invented a more aerodynamic bracket for the teeth - one that fits more smoothly over the lips? Surely there's an opportunity here. But I digress.) I will think of my future straight teeth when I see all the wonderful things in Top Shop that I won't be buying because I want to be a better buyer - until I figure out how to do that, I must go through the pain and discomfort of not buying anything.

With that, some tequila and perhaps the promise of a personal shopper at the end of all this, I should be able to manage. 

Others on hiatus

So far, I've spoken with two other women who also have not shopped for a year. Deliberately, I mean, thereby excluding my sister who apparently has to be told to buy a pair of socks by her husband when he spots the holes in them taking them from the washing machine to the dryer. (Hard to believe this is the same sister that loves the fake designer bags that I get her, but apparently true - she has to be reminded or forced to buy clothes for herself.)

The two women were shoppers who decided that they needed to take a break and examine shopping habits. I met the first one at a party. She was barely out of her teens, and yet she missed her bohemian teen life where she got clothes out of the garbage and lived on the streets. After cleaning up her act (ie, getting an apartment, going to school, finding a job), she found herself more and more involved with buying nice clothes, so much so that she couldn't stop herself. That's when (and why) she took a hiatus. Diagnosis?  An overdose following deprivation. Hiatus helped settle things down for her.

The other women is in her early thirties and from a fairly affluent family. She has tons of lovely clothes and outfits and seems always to wear something different every time I see her. She didn't reveal much about why she stopped shopping for clothes for a year, but I imagine it was a lifetime of overdose that she felt needied a bit of deprivation. She almost looked frightened when I asked her how it felt.  

"It was hard."

Maybe I should introduce her to my sister.

The niceness of new-ish

Winter has a way of trying to bring folks down, what with the piling layers of warm clothing on our bodies, the short dark days and the cold weather.  That's why god invented spring fashion lines! Tidbits whetting our appetite with the promise of sunny warm weather where we can wear less and show off our bodies. Nevermind that we don't look like the supermodels showing us the fashions, we all dream that it's the clothes that help them look that good. That's the lure of fashion shows and advertising and Hollywood gossip magazines.

I'm right there with everyone else. Almost 2 months into the shopping hiatus and I'm beginning to drool at the spring fashion items in Bottega Veneta's windows and ads.  Yummy. And in my colors!

Two recent items to note on the hiatus. One, I had to stitch up my glove liners for skiing.  Even if glove liners can't be considered a fashion accessory, they are clothing. Much as I would have loved a new pair without holes, I repaired the old ones. I might add that while skiing is one way to beat the winter blues, it also is a HUGE competition of how to look on those slopes (and I don't mean how you look skiing - it's all about the label on your skiwear). Let me just say that if you can't ski well, you're not showing off those bright beautiful outfits.

Two, I mixed a long-sleeved blouse and a summer dress with winter boots and had a new winter outfit yesterday! Simple, right? But not something I would have done had I not been on hiatus. Just the newness of wearing clothes in a different way made me feel good, so there must be something about the newness of a look as opposed the newness of an item that you buy that gives that emotional boost.  

Must remember this during the next 10.25 months.

The niceness of new

What is it about new clothes that sends hearts fluttering?  

I'm sure that I'm not alone in having several 'new with tags' items of clothing in my closet - lovely things I bought who knows when, planning to wear them and never quite getting around to it. Some of my friends have told me that they buy something new and pretty in a smaller size so that they have something to wear when they lose weight/get in shape/whatever.  Maybe it's just nice to have something new and fresh as backup for those days when you need newness in your life. It's like wearing comfort clothes - the favorite old pair of jeans or big sweater.  We wear some clothes to make us feel better.

So if we shop to feel better and wear clothes to feel better, why don't we feel better?  

The January Sales

A pang of envy hit me watching Eva Marie Saint in Hitchcock's "North by Northwest."  Well, not so much watching her, but looking at her clothes.  In my mind that black dress and cap she wore when she shot Cary Grant at Mt Rushmore and the red flower party dress she wore at the hotel and then the auction both would look fantastic on me.  I believed this despite having more the body of Olive Oyl than Eva Marie Saint, and despite the fact that big, red, bold flowers have only ever flattered the coffee table in my house.  

These facts did not make it through to my mind while I watched the movie and imagined myself in those clothes. And my fantasy become so much more real when I discovered that Hitchcock (not liking the costumes designed for Eva's character) took her to Bergdoff's and bought them off the rack for her! I could do that too!

Thankfully I'm on shopping hiatus and will be unable to test out this fantasy for another 10.75 months. And counting.

The holidays

Making it through the holidays on shopping hiatus wasn't too bad. Being out of the country helped somewhat, but no one really buys me clothes for gifts anyway; I'm usually left to my own devices there.  Of course panic hit my friend V after hearing about my travel plans ("What happens if you find something handmade in some little town that you'll never find anywhere else and it is perfect for you?").  V also worried about me missing the sample sales ("Theory. Need I say more?"), but I assured her that I wouldn't be looking for any handmade items for myself and my Theory belt (bought at Loehman's of course) would meet my Theory needs for the year.

In discussing the blog and shopping with M, another woman, I discovered that there are women who don't head immediately to the sales racks and sample sales.  But these women are no more healthy than the rest of us - they won't deny themselves the luxury of paying full price if they really want something (although admittedly, they do like a bargain and will embrace one should it come their way), but these women like frugal men and encourage spending on themselves only. But that's another blog.

(www.blogthings.com/areyouahighmaintenancewomanquiz)

No, making it through the holidays without shopping for clothes is easy - it's the January sales that challenge you.

The sales rack

In speaking to another woman about clothes shopping, she mentioned that she also headed straight for the sales rack and often settled for clothes not exactly right.  She pointed out that her husband never did this - he got exactly what he wanted and needed and didn't look for a bargain along the way.  Nor did he allow any bargains distract him from what he wanted.  In short, he didn't settle.  Why do we?

Is this some sort of freakish female phenomenon?  I don't think it's a question of having too many clothes and justifying the amount, since I know plenty of men who own more clothes than I do and they don't tell me about all the money they saved on each pair of slacks or shirt. (Is this another female trait - the obsession with believing that any compliment on our clothes necessitates a description from us on what a bargain any particular item was?)

Speaking of bargains, my friend A went out browsing thrift stores last week (a treat she allows herself each week after her therapy session, but I won't get into Freud's analysis of that), and picked up a lovely little black Benetton dress in perfect condition for only $4!  On so many levels, this little dress provides proof of a lot of what I've noticed and heard.  First, the dress was such a good deal she didn't even have to try it on because she couldn't pass up a $4 dress. Second, she had to tell me about the dress by describing its looks and its cost in the same sentence. Third, her retail therapy is discounted, as is mine and many other women's - why isn't she over at Sak's browsing after a therapy session? Still, she was proud of her find and it is a lovely dress.  She planned to wear it during the holidays.

Apparently we women can justify any purchase if it's a bargain.  And we mourn the losses of the bargains we gave up, don't we?  I'm sure that faux leopard coat from the 60s that was on sale (but was not quite low enough to justify the cost) looks better in my memory than it ever did on me. Yet I swing from thanking the friend who talked me out of buying it ("Put the coat down and step back from the ledge!") to cursing her, for not only will I never revel in compliments on my cute Edie Sedgwick look when wearing it, but I never will get to brag about what a deal it was!

As for A's little black dress, it didn't fit and she's contemplating using it as a $4 dust rag.

Emotional shopping - is there any other way?

I spoke to various people about my decision not to shop for clothes/accessories for a year and received interesting reactions. One woman spent 1/2 hour coming up with possible scenarios ("but what if an airline loses your luggage...") in a sort of panic about my inability to shop. Another simply said it was wrong to deny myself the pleasure of shopping, especially since I didn't do that much in the first place.  Others found the concept interesting and one was tempted to do it herself, but all of us had a common theme - our relationship with clothes shopping was emotional at its core.  

My aunt understood this the best, admitting that she often shopped when she was felling melancholic.  (She also confessed to buying an amazingly low-priced thick wool BCBG cardigan at some discount store in Florida that day that had been reduced from US$270 to US$30 - she had to have it despite the fact that she would never need a thick wool cardigan in southern Florida.)

I recalled a similar purchase in New Orleans a few years back.  I'd been invited to a "Purple Rain" party and, despite not particularly liking or looking good in the color purple, bought a purple satin cap and matching cape for it.  My friend A tried to talk me out of buying the cape, saying that the cap would be enough.  But the outfit was not complete without the cape - I simply had to have it!  

In the morning faced with buyer's remorse and a bit of a hangover, I wondered what really had been going through my mind when I bought it.  Luckily, I have a niece who simply adores purple and looks very glam in the outfit.

But what was my impulse to buy it?  What was my need being met in that purchase?  Was I trying to fit into the theme and be accepted or trying to play dress up and be glamorous or what?  And why does that need (and the deprivation of it) strike a chord with so many women?

In the beginning there were fig (or should that be 'big') leaves

I've been thinking about my clothes shopping for a few months.  Never much of a clothes shopper in the past, I found myself emerging into quite a good little clothes shopper over the past few years.  This relates directly to years of therapy that resulted in my realization that I owned only clothes that were too big or too old as well as in my desire for pretty things that fit and were trendy.  Why should I be the only one of my friends not in debt over fashion?  So off I went.  But I headed for the sales racks, the sample sales, the discount stores.  Not only that, once there, I justified buying the pretty trendy things that didn't fit just right or weren't the exact color because they were such a good deal.  Again?  Years of therapy for this? What was going on here?

I recently reconstructed my closet and in doing so had to put all my clothes on a rack in my living room for a month while my bedroom was a construction site.  As I lay on the couch staring up at the rack of clothes, I thought about my purchases.  The short vintage dress I bought in Paris to wear when I first met Derek Jeter (still unworn but still saving it for that serendipitous meeting); the long silk Calvin Klein dress I bought to wear on a fancy date to the Oak Room (still unworn, and I'm not sure the Oak Room will ever reopen - sorry Eloise); the short handmade lambswool jacket to wear over the long silk CK dress (worn once); the lovely blue Willis wrap dress that never quite fit or looked right, but was so easy and never wrinkled; and so on.  In the process of moving everything from the closet to the living room and back, I made four trips to donate bags of clothes after sweeping through my entire wardrobe again and again.  I wanted nothing that didn't fit right, wasn't the right color and wouldn't get me a compliment if I wore it.  And so I purged.  I gave things away to friends and to charity and I even sold a few things.  I also decided that I would go on a year-long shopping hiatus to reassess my buying.  I also sprung it on myself by starting a bit early - not in the new year as I'd planned, but on Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year in the US.  That gave me no time to stock up on running socks or stockings or black slacks, things every girl needs. (I knew I'd be tempted and I knew I could justify the purchases.) I've decided that I'm going to wear the clothes I own, mix and match from what's available, repair if I have to, and see how the year goes.  I'll continue to purge, but I won't accumulate, and I'm hoping that at the end of the year, I'll make better choices. 

BTW, I've put my therapist on notice.