I have been wanting to write about what it means to change your mind about fashion.
I love changing my mind - getting passionate about a particular course of action, going into introspection, and later admitting I was wrong. I change my mind a lot. I think my friends find it equally annoying and amusing.
When you share your opinion online, it gets suspended into the digital afterlife. The internet loves to take down women, and it especially loves to criticise a woman who changes her mind. One of the reasons why I have stepped away from making short-form content for social media is that it is challenging to address nuance in a 90-second video clip. You have to be assertive to get your point across. However, with fashion, nothing is ever clear-cut. No brand is 100% sustainable. No price point guarantees quality. No styling tip is universally applicable.
When I started sharing my thoughts about fashion online, I was fresh from a corporate exit and jaded by the industry’s greed. What I had seen and heard had hardened me. I had a one-track mind - ‘spending is bad, restraint is good’. In the years since, I have rediscovered style through the lens of individualism and had conversations with countless women who love fashion for the creativity and self-expression it affords them. It has mellowed me and changed my perspective. I can see fashion as art again and not as a commodity.
Now, I have the privilege each week to address a community of women with an acute sense of agency over their shopping habits. That means that I can put out a holiday edit full of sequin dresses and trust that whether you draw styling or shopping inspiration from it, you will make the right choices for you and the ecosystem we live in. And I don’t expect you to explain or justify why you made that choice, as I see so many women being pressured to do daily, both online and in real life.
Do I still judge sometimes? Of course I do. When I see a fast-fashion haul with no caveat or acknowledgement, I wonder, ‘Do they not know? Or do they know and ignore it?’. But what I mostly judge is judgment. When people criticise women, divide them, or make comments about a context they know nothing about, I will judge.
One thing I have changed my mind about is that it’s okay sometimes to buy something because it brings you temporary joy - there’s no better embodiment of that than shopping for the holiday season.
Style Subculture #1. Audrey Hepburn’s NYE in Bushwick
In an era where cost-per-wear is king, shopping for the holiday season is synonymous with indulgence and frivolity. We're made to bear guilt and judgment for wanting to buy something we'll wear for just six hours. Yes, sequins and faux furs are dreadful for the environment, problematic in their resource-intensive creation and eventual disposal. But what impact does joy have on how long we hold on to these pieces? I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me the feathers and glitters are some of the longest-standing pieces in your wardrobe. Every Christmas, I still wear the ones I bought in college. What reason would I have to get rid of them, really? The allure of joy never goes out of style.
Speaking of which, I published a holiday capsule newsletter on Cyber Weekend last year, too. While the shopping links are probably no longer active, if you want a double dose of inspiration after reading this, it’s here. If I do say so myself, these capsules haven’t aged a day.
Clothing rental companies have disrupted the way we do occasionwear. I have many friends who swear by it. I love that it allows people access to brands that would otherwise be out of reach. I also love that it helps curb overconsumption. However, I fear it perpetuates our modern-day tendencies to treat our clothes as passing acquaintances rather than lifelong companions. I’m not a situationship gal. I want to love my clothes deeply. If I like something enough to wear it, I won’t want to let it go after one night. I don’t want to pass it on to other girls. And this is especially true about occasionwear as it carries so much joy and drama. A dress you wore many holiday seasons ago will hold the memory of the hours you spent getting ready with friends, the anticipatory cab journey, stolen kisses, and the last glass of champagne that turned everything into a blur.