Easier Said Than Done... Not buying til Fall

Since I made my last post I still haven't bought any clothes, shoes, or bags. I did stock up on some underwear and hosiery from the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. I justified it because if a key pair of tights developed a hole in the fall I'd kick myself for having to pay full price. And the foundation garments I prefer don't go on sale except for now. Basics are different from continuing the superfluous accumulation of STUFF.

But I haven't bought otherwise. I am trying my best to not buy until Fall, since I don't really like summer clothes anyway, save for one See By Chloé linen dress I bought two sale cycles ago.

It is so simple and I hope to wear it in summers for years.

I have also toyed with the idea of forgoing my usual fall gluttony (since it IS my favorite season) and indulging in just one dress.

This one in particular. I imagine I'd wear it with bittersweet chocolate tights, and burnt orange vintage inspired buckle pumps with a chunky square heel. But it is essentially the more expensive Chloé version of my See by Chloé Trail Print Dress in a different pattern/colorway.

The shape is the same. The sleeves are the same. The exaggerated peter pan seaming near the collar is the same. But the price tag on the Chloé (even seasons removed from its initial debut) is far more extravagant than its diffusion line sister dress. So I guess it isn't meant to be! But I am reminded again of why I need to review what I have before making impulse purchases. More often than not, in doing so I will remember owning something which approximates closely the desired new/new-to-me item.

One thrify way I've avoided shopping for bags is by trading with other fashionable ladies in need of a switch. A woman from The Purse Forum offered me her Marc Jacobs Collection quilted Mouse Gray Blake in exchange for my Marc by Marc Jacobs Elderberry Quinn.

Although my lifestyle is probably better suited for the more casual Quinn and Elderberry is one of my favorite Marc by Marc leather colors of all time, I have also long admired MJ collection Mouse gray. And although I really like the practicality of the MBMJ turnlock line, I am starting to tire of its ubuiquity (though I see far less bags in Pittsburgh than in larger cities). My MJ Venetia (which I sold a while ago) couldn't fit over the shoulders but the Blake can. The retail prices on these bags carry a pretty significant difference (hers cost more, though she got it second hand) but at the end of the trade both of us were happy campers.

How are you managing to avoid shopping? Or are you indulging in the sales?

The Irrational Season: On Fiscal Austerity In the Coming Months

This post is peppered (with my tongue at least slightly pressed into my cheek) with items from Net-A-Porter that I would buy for fall 09 if money was no object.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the ideology of consumerism as it relates with notions of class, individuality/rhetoric of choice/agency, and capitalism. I have also been mulling over the volume of stuff I accumulated in just the short time I've lived in the home I own. It has been almost one year since the closing date and somehow I acquired what amounts to an entire wardrobe of clothes, shoes, and bags. Granted many were bought at an 80% discount. Many were financed through selling the old to make way for the new. And all were arguably legitimate upgrades from a wardrobe full of business casual mall fare. But it is still so frivolous.

Coat and dress by Lover

While the rational part of me *knows* that my closet is already amply stocked with clothing and accessories for all seasons, the irrational part of me is preoccupied with the newness, the thrill of scoring a bargain, and that nagging drive for "progress" to occur in some capacity. Progressions can happen in a variety of ways. There are progressions as style evolutions or aesthetic shifts in the way one represents oneself. Such as the decision to select after a series of trials and errors, one particular silhouette that you plan to sport for every formal occasion in your future, or finalizing for the time being just how you will mix and accessorize a particular garment. There are progressions in terms of accumulation. For example, when shopping functions empirically, as one continues to amass quantities of new goods, each piece fills a perceived hole or lack, allowing you to cross from your checklist another "necessity," and each functioning to prove, almost positivistically, one's absolute prowess as a savvy shopper. And there are progressions in the procedural methods one uses to hunt new retail conquests. This reminds me of the first time I lost a dress on ebay to last-minute, sniping bidders. I quickly adjusted my strategies and employed bid sniping services, myself.

Giuseppe Zanotti Studded Flats (from 08)

For all the rational understanding I have about the history of consumer culture (I teach classes on the subject so I've studied it amply), I still cannot seem to distance myself from my own unabashed materialism. Style is intrinsic to one's public identity. And while I am not in a high profile profession, I am certain the way I dress informs the way I am treated by students, colleagues, and supervisors. I've used this as justification for a multitude of indulgences. Truth be told, when I am teaching I often only visit the office a few times a week. I mostly work and write from home. Occasionally I hole up in a coffee shop, but more often than not, the rubber of my closet has very little road surface to hit.

Marc by Marc Jacobs and Anna Sui dresses

Personally and historically, I am in a moment immediately following a social period that embraced materialism and encouraged people to live aspirationally. Many hoped that living aspirationally under capitalism (with all its narratives of self made men and exceptionalism, individuality, and market discipline) would become a self fulfilling prophecy. I am fortunate that Pittsburgh's cost of living is so reasonable, or else I would probably find myself under mountains of debt from my shopping endeavors. The wake of markets that took for granted the social conditions of mass gluttony are still evident in the current spate of sales. Hopeful retail buyers overbought in orders that were made before the economic bottom fell out (as they say). After months of disbelief, I still find myself remarking that "we might never see a sale like this again." At some point, epic sales came to be the norm. While WSJ and NYT articles continue to insist that we should buy as though it is the end of the world, and the fact that we might never see sales like this again might be true since we might never again see stocking patterns that require such epic clearances, that doesn't mean that a person in my financial circumstances (graduate student, home owner, and saving for the future) should buy as though the sky is falling. Just because I can sort of afford it doesn't mean I need it.

As such, this is why I'm not really buying much right now. Despite the sales. Despite that nagging desire for progress. I'm trying my best to enjoy what I have, sell a few handbags to replace my emergency car fund (since I just had an epic car repair), and build a new reserve for my future.

This post was inspired in part by a comment from the lovely Dream Sequins, and the IFB articles about the recession and fashion blogging.