My Secondhand Year

First, an update. This might not have been the best year for me to give up shopping. It was easy for me last winter when we were hunkering in for weeks on end, and I felt pretty smug about the whole thing. The changing of the seasons — always a time of year when I get excited to buy something new — tempted me. But it was the grad party circuit that really challenged me this spring (in more ways than just sartorial ones, but that’s a subject for a different type of blog).

All that being said, I’m proud to say I made it through this particularly social spring with my resolution intact. I did use a gift card a friend had given me as a thank-you gift to buy a dress for my daughter’s graduation. It’s a kind-of-boring navy cotton number but was entirely appropriate for the occasion, which was dressier and more formal than I had expected. Here’s the dress. It’s cute and comfortable and not like anything I have, and I will definitely wear it again.

Otherwise, I shopped my closet. And you know what? It was fine. Actually, it was a source of joy.

I wrote an article for a magazine this spring about Joy, and in the process of researching it, I learned about glimmers. The opposite of triggers, glimmers are tiny micro-moments of joy caused by fleeting, everyday things that happen all the time — IF you pay attention (in case you don’t want to read the article but are wondering how to find joy, here’s a hint: start by paying attention). In reading about glimmers, I learned a few tricks for helping to notice them, including pretending to be a tourist when you walk around your neighborhood. So, lately, I’ve been cruising the streets with my camera out and taking pictures of especially pretty houses and flowers, ancient trees, almost-hidden fairy villages, and cute Little Free Libraries. I even made a photo album on my phone so I can remind myself of the joy-sparking things all around me, many of which I had never noticed before.

What on earth does this have to do with not shopping, you are probably (validly) asking. Well, I decided that if I could see my neighborhood (the one I’ve lived in for a decade and around which I walked incessantly during Covid) as a tourist destination, then I could see my closet like a… fancy retail shop. I mean, for one thing, the clothes in there were actually purchased by me. So, presumably, I like them. At one point, probably not too long ago, they sparked joy for me. When I started paying attention, I realized that I actually don’t love most of the clothes real stores are selling these days (what’s with all the florals, cut-outs, and ruffles?) and, if nothing else, the things in my closet are not hideous.

Now, I’m not gonna lie: My closet is generally an overstuffed mess. It is not merchandised like A-Line or Blush. The lighting is terrible (flickering tube lights that half the time don’t even go on), and it’s super narrow.

So, in order to really “shop” in there, I need to do a serious cleanup, which is the next phase of this no-shopping-year experiment. But in the meantime, I didn’t want to let the perfect get in the way of the good, so I forced myself to wade in, pull things out, mix and match (not my strong suit), and generally try to look at my closet as my own personal boutique.

For one grad party, I belted a voluminous pool coverup dress with a belt from a tailored skirt. For another, I pulled out some white jeans I haven’t worn since before Covid. I paired a silk blouse with sailor shorts for a casual afternoon event. Some of these outfits were more successful than others for sure, but I never hated what I was wearing (there was not a flounce or tiered skirt in sight). And honestly, isn’t that basically the goal?

It was kind of fun. It was free. It saved me a lot of time and probably misery at the mall. And it made me happy.

I’m actually excited to purge and make the space more closely resemble a nice place to “shop.” More on that in my next post, which will be a review of consignment and donation options.