It’s a tale as old as time (or just me?). Girl shops. Girl has a closet (plus maybe a couple of suitcases) full of clothes. Girl meets boy. Girl and boy expect baby. Girl finally starts thinking about things like the future and setting a good example. You know, the small stuff.
shopping was my kryptonite
As cliché as it may sound, that is how it started. I used to be what you might call a self-diagnosed shopaholic. I didn’t have the self-awareness at the time – I was too busy shopping or trying to figure out what to wear to pause and put a label on what I was doing. Shopping was my cardio. Okay, maybe not cardio, but I absolutely thought of shopping as a way to get me off of the couch and be more active.
Shopping was my favorite hobby, a part of my routine, a pacifier. I would hit the stores whenever I had the chance, minimal planning involved. I’ve always loved fashion, and spent my weekends immersing in the romanticism at fashion exhibits. Shopping provided an escape to the fantasy world where I wore beautiful gowns and luscious accessories.
The result was a closet overstuffed with garments, fast fashion, high street, and luxury alike. It also took me forever to get dressed. I had a lot lying around, but few I actually chose to wear. There was nothing wrong with the clothes per se. The clothes were of decent enough quality and pretty. But perhaps they were too pretty – for my lifestyle, the rest of my wardrobe, and everyday wearing. I constantly found myself trying on certain pieces and shoving them to the back of the closet. What looked irresistibly attractive in the dressing room, now felt somewhat out of place on me in my own closet. So the easiest thing was to default to wearing the same few things that I felt most comfortable in. Many of my treasured finds still had tags on years later. Tucked away and forgotten about.
Some may think it’s a silver lining that I shopped within my means. It was, in a way. At least I didn’t get into a bunch of credit card debt from my guilty pleasure. But here’s the catch: To feed my insatiable appetite for new pieces with my limited budget, I looked for marked down designer pieces. Sample sales, Nordstrom Rack, and luxury consignment boutiques were my playground. I would enter with a mission to find something, as long as the price is “right” (read: affordable). The trip would felt “successful” whenever I came out with a shopping bag. The illusion that I was getting a “good deal” made me throw practicality and usability considerations out the window. On the other hand, I was spared from the pressure that I would’ve otherwise felt if I were overspending financially, which meant I didn’t have to think too hard about it. But I was overspending. Maybe not the dollars, but my time, energy, and headspace.
things had to change, but how?
In my second trimester, I created a spreadsheet of baby essentials to buy. Ironically, picturing our apartment taken over by baby stuff ended up being a wakeup call. I had to make room, organize, and declutter, for the baby. I just didn’t quite know where to start. Then, in the sea of “style for fall” and unboxing videos in my YouTube feed, there was one positing why many have a full closet but nothing to wear. Bingo – my interest was piqued.
One video led to another, and the next thing I knew I was binging The Minimalists podcast and numerous YouTube videos on no-buy or low-buy challenges and personal finance. It was energizing to learn a whole new perspective on how to approach life – I could simplify, get to a place of contentment, and be more financially responsible. One minorly petrifying issue: to get there, I would need to undergo a multi-step program with my dysfunctional relationship with shopping. No more “out of sight, out of mind.” It was time to face the music (and the many garments, shoes, bags, and accessories that had been strangers since they gave me a shot of dopamine when I bought them). Oh, and the money I’d flushed down the drain over the years.
So I did. I dug out my bank statements and wrote down every single thing I added to my wardrobe from January to August 2022. Here’s what I found:
- 33 items (excluding underwear purely maternity clothes)
- 21/33 were impulse purchases (at least half are regrets)
- 9/33 had not been used
- All were “want” items (instead of “need”)
- Cost over 10% of my income
These are sobering stats. As someone who had more than enough to begin with, I added 33 new pieces in 8 months. I wouldn’t say that a 74-piece wardrobe is sufficient or suitable for every person, but 50 new items a year is excessive by any measure. Metric or imperial. About two thirds of the purchases were made on impulse (not surprising given I didn’t plan my purchases and frequently bought things on a whim when I was at the store). And many I would not buy again if given the choice.
I am not trying to take away from what I did alright – there were a few hits (10, to be exact) that had added a lot of value. And again, I didn’t go into debt for any of these purchases. But what really stung is that I could’ve avoided the regrettably bad purchases had I just given it a bit of time and thought. That money could’ve gone towards my retirement, investment, or heck, other better purchases that I could actually enjoy if I decided that was the best use of the money. Instead, I brought them home only to turn them into expensive clutter, and now had to agonize over whether to hold onto these use-less (to me) items a bit longer to see if I could make use of them, try selling them to minimize financial loss, or donate them. And this was just one year’s worth. Don’t even get me started on the other hundreds of items I’d accumulated over the past few decades.
more importantly, why?
At this point, I was no longer just making room for the baby. It had become much bigger than that. I wanted to do this for myself. For my family by extension, sure. But for myself, first and foremost. It was also not just about saving money, either. To me, the problem was not the amount of money spent, but the amount wasted. I would not hesitate to spend money on myself, my well-being, even my wardrobe. If anything, I’m of the opinion that it’s necessary, especially for a working mom. We have to be willing to make time for, focus on, and invest in, ourselves. Being the best version of myself is the best thing for my family.
That said, to ensure that I used my time, attention, and money in a way that actually moves me in that direction, I needed to bring intention into many aspects of my life. The road to the best version of myself is not paved with impulse purchases and retail therapy, even done within budget. Indeed, those purchases are more likely to be distracting, consuming, and a hinderance. The sticker price is only the down payment of the full cost associated with a use-less possession. Getting my shopping and cluttered wardrobe under control seemed as logical a place to start as any.
Right then and there, I began my journey of trying to live more intentionally. Maybe a bit late, but I’m glad I found just enough intention to get started.
xo