Category: Statistics

State of the Wardrobe, 2019 Edition

2018 was the Year of Thrift. Though I have been thrifting regularly for the past 4-5 years, I kicked things up a notch last year. Nearly all of my clothing and accessory purchases (undergarments excluded) were secondhand, the vast majority being thrifted. I can count my 2018 retail clothing purchases on one hand; accessories would require an extra hand or two, mostly because I can’t seem to resist Anthro’s clearance jewelry section.

2018 was also my biggest year for thrifting designer labels. A non-exhaustive list includes YSL, Armani Collezione, Burberry, Manolo Blahnik, Jil Sander, Prada, Zero+Maria Cornejo, Roger Vivier, AllSaints, Smythe, Theory, Vince, by Malene Birger, Sarah Pacini, and Lela Rose. Needless to say, I feel extremely fortunate – nay, spoiled – by the Edmonton thrift scene. As an added bonus, it includes a wonderfully supportive group of fellow thrift enthusiasts and bloggers, who share information and tips freely.

2018 was a year of self-discovery for me, style-wise. I spent the better part of the year refining an aesthetic that feels “just right” in my current phase of life; but I have also come to realize and accept that style – which is a primary mode of self-expression for me – will never be a static concept in my life. It is a constantly evolving thing, reflective of the person I am in the process of becoming.

2018 was a purchase-heavy year. I’m loath to put a number out there, but suffice to say that it’s the second highest of the 5 years during which I’ve been tracking my clothing purchases (2014 to 2018 inclusive). Given the above, that shouldn’t be a big surprise to anyone. There are so many amazing pieces to be thrifted, and as selective as I have become (yes, really!), saying “no” to some of them is beyond my willpower. Some of them were calculated risks – some of which paid off, some of which didn’t. Some of them were impulse buys, including those of the “should have known better” type. About 1/3 of items I bought in 2018 are already gone from my closet – most of them, I hasten to add, to consignment (and the balance either re-donated or reserved for my next clothing swap).

2018 was a fairly frugal year. This might surprise you, coming on the heels of the preceding paragraph, but it shouldn’t. In total, I spent approximately $2,900 on clothing and accessories. [This number excludes undergarments, though they total somewhere in the region of $200-$250, largely because I had to replace a bunch of bras and underwear this year.] The total is the second lowest of the past 5 years. It doesn’t account for all the money I made reselling clothes in 2018, some of which I haven’t spent yet. For any fellow number geeks out there, my out-of-pocket costs were approximately 4.9% of the original manufacturer recommended retail price of the items I bought. Again, I am incredibly lucky in this regard; there is no way that I could afford to have the closet that I do have
were it not for thrifting.

A word on budgets: I keep seeing the figure of “up to 5% of net pay” being thrown around as a benchmark of what a person (woman?) “ought” to spend on clothing. I feel weirdly responsible for this, having bandied about that same number almost a decade ago; to be clear, the idea didn’t originate with me – I think I first read it in a fashion magazine, though I can’t remember – and I have no doubt that it propagated no thanks to my efforts. In any case, I think it’s a statement that should come with a huge caveat, and I feel obliged to include it here. It’s mostly bollocks. There, I said it. There is no “one size fits all” when it comes to discretionary spending of this sort, even with the wiggle room of the implied range (0-5%). On one end of the spectrum, there is a base level of clothing needs which have to be met no matter the person’s income, debt level and/or other financial obligations; sometimes, 5% won’t be enough (at least for a period of time). On the other end of the spectrum, people value different things; some people value and prioritize clothing over other discretionary spending (assuming there are available dollars to begin with), while others most certainly don’t. For me, $2,900 is an acceptable amount to spend on something that is both functional and a hobby. It doesn’t interfere with my day-to-day financial obligations or my family’s long-term plans, and it appropriately reflects the value I place on clothing (and shopping as an activity/hobby). To me, that’s far more important than the fact that it also, coincidentally, fits within the “5% or less” range.

Lastly, 2018 was a year of constant curation. My closet hasn’t magically grown in size – alas! – and I’m sure you can imagine the challenges posed by a steady incoming stream of new (to me) purchases. My wardrobe numbers have been pretty steady throughout the year; I haven’t bothered to go back to check against last year’s tally, but I think they are similar. The current numbers are:

Tops – 33

Sweaters & cardigans – 41 (I think this number went up, oops!)

Blazers – 27

Pants (including jeans) – 28

Skirts – 15

Dresses (including special occasion) – 33

Outerwear – 14

Shoes – 49

Bags – 33

As far as goals for 2019, I don’t have any major ones. I plan to continue limiting retail purchases as much as possible; I would love to say I will go “secondhand only” for the entire year, but I don’t think that’s realistic and I’m not a fan or arbitrary challenges. Since my closet is not lacking for anything (except a couple of replacement pieces here and there), I plan to focus my thrifting efforts on favourite designers who cater to my aesthetic, to either expand my current collection of statement pieces or upgrade existing wardrobe staples. But, let’s be real, I am sure there will be more than a few “experiments” along the way as well, and I’m okay with that.

Do you have any wardrobe/shopping goals for 2019? Would love to hear from you in the comments, especially if you’ve been tracking your closet stats this past year (or before).

State of the Closet, Summer 2018

It’s been a while since I formally took stock of my closet, and since it’s the mid-point of the year already (how?), I thought it might be a good time for an update. Keeping up with Stylebook hasn’t been much of a priority lately, so I am going to try reconstruct a picture of the year to date from the Google Docs spreadsheet for recent purchases which I still update regularly.

First, the current content stats:

Tops – 30

Knits – 32

Blazers – 28

Trousers/jeans – 30

Skirts – 10

Work & casual dresses – 13

Special occasion dresses – 8

Outerwear – 17

Shoes – 43

Bags – 30

This illustrates pretty well my current preference for trousers over skirts. I am also in a transitional phase with dresses, where I’ve purged a lot of old favourites whose style/cut was no longer in line with my aesthetic, but I am still working on defining what styles do fit it. As a result, I’ve bought only a few dresses this year, most of them casual. This is the category where I struggle the most to break with my old Anthro-heavy vibe, so I am taking it slow. The Sarah Pacini dress I showed you the other day is a good example of something that works, but it’s the kind of piece that doesn’t turn up in thrift stores all that often.

My outerwear game is going strong, thanks to thrifting success, which has paid off handsomely this spring/summer. I now have coats for every occasion, outfit and weather condition, and I find that helps tremendously in feeling “pulled together” when I’m commuting to work.

Over the last few months, I have been slowly editing my shoe collection. The numbers have remained more or less consistent, but I have been adding new pieces (mostly boots and loafers) while purging my heels. Because one can never have too many reminders of one’s age and mortality (sarcasm font engaged), I have been experiencing a lot more aches and pains in my foot joints than before. Not surprisingly, this has significantly increased the appeal of flats to me; luckily, I feel that my new style lends itself nicely to flats, so not all is lost.

On the bag front, I don’t have anything too exciting to report. I thrifted a bunch of Marc Jacobs purses of various shapes lately, which I adore and use on constant rotation, and have largely ignored the rest of my collection. I’m not planning any major purchases (thrift finds excluded), and I find that I am moving away from using large and/or high-end designer bags. Part of that has to do with my (casual) work environment, and part of it is just practical reality; I am frequently commuting with a backpack now, because I carry my laptop with me, and if I’m going to carry a purse, it has to be something small, relatively casual, and easy to carry. A Louis Vuitton or Chanel bag would just look ridiculous. With that said, I am not in a rush to declutter my collection; who knows how things might change, and what my style/lifestyle needs might look like in the future. I’ve learned my lesson, which is not to part with any bag that would cost most to repurchase than what I originally paid for it. Since most of my designer bags were (not literal) steals, I’m hanging on to them for the time being. If nothing else, my daughter – who is proving to be a budding fashionista – will have something to play with in another 5-10 years.

As far as other numbers go, I’ve spent $1,340 on clothes and accessories so far this year; if it stays on the same track to the end of the year, then my 2018 spending will be lower than last year’s, continuing a 4-year decreasing trend. With the exception of 7 items (all but one of them being accessories), everything I purchased this year came either from thrift or consignment stores. On average, I paid just 5.5% of the retail value of my purchased items. Overall, approximately 85% of my working wardrobe is now thrifted. I’m pretty happy with those numbers.

What is Good Value?

A reader posed an interesting question on a recent thrifting post, and after thinking through my response to her, I decided it would make a good topic for a post of its own. With her permission, I am reproducing the question here (in condensed format), to kick things off:

What do you consider a good price on really high end pieces? For example – I need a new coat that goes over business suits and found a beautiful Italian cashmere coat that looked unworn. Fits beautifully. Price is ~10% of full retail (I researched) – but retail is over $3K. So it seems pricey but the quality and fit are amazing. I noticed a trend for the cost of better designer stuff [on the secondhand market] to be about 10% of retail. Good? Bad?

Boiled down to its essence, this is a question that most thrifters (and fans of secondhand shopping generally) have to face: how do you judge “good value”? Here are my two cents on that.

Retail Value as Benchmark

As reader SAK suggested, using the retail value of an item as a benchmark is one way of determining whether its re-sale price is “good value” or not. There are several things about this method that I like, as well as some drawbacks I’ll address in a minute. First of all, we are wired to assess value through comparison, so this approach taps into that. Getting something for $5 when the original price tag was $250 feels like “good value” and sometimes that’s as objective an answer as we can get. Moreover, higher retail value generally correlates with better quality, which means that our objective feelings might have some grounding in reality.

But, as I mentioned, there are drawbacks too. Retail value can be, on occasion, hard to determine – especially with pieces older than 2-3 years, which is what you might typically expect to find in secondhand stores. Dedicated thrifters like me have learned the Google tricks that will yield the most useful results, but even we can be stumped at times. As well, retail value is sometimes misleading as an indicator of quality. There are $250 sweaters that are appreciably better than $100 sweaters, and some that are no better, or perhaps worse in quality. There is probably little difference between a $250 sweater and a $350 one. There is almost certainly no difference between a $350 sweater and a $700 one, unless the latter is weaved by fancy French elves from the discarded hairballs of the legendary Choupette. Fabrics and finishes can provide some clues as to the real manufacturing cost and, hence, the mark-up involved in the retail price. (Ethical manufacturing is an even bigger clue.) And here’s a hypothetical question: would a $5 sweater that retailed for $250 seem as good of a bargain if you knew it cost $25 to produce?

Going back to SAK’s original query, I think that 10% is not a bad benchmark if you’re judging value based on retail price. Clothing depreciates way faster than cars, you guys! As soon as you cut those original tags off, the value typically drops by 20% or more. Wear the piece a few times, and you’ll be lucky to get 40% of its retail value … and that is if you can sell it directly (i.e. eBay or Poshmark) rather than through a third party (i.e. consignment), and if the piece is from a brand with good “resale value” – which is not necessarily the same as brand cachet. Looking at it from the buyer’s perspective, that’s good news: you can easily score things for 10% or less than retail value, particularly at thrift stores. My current average for the year (not counting bags, since I tend to buy high-end designer pieces at consignment stores, which skew the results a lot) is just over 5%. I’m probably not the best example, since I’m more than a casual thrifter, but 10% is totally doable for most people with access to decent thrift stores.

Price Set Points

For most thrifted pieces, price set points don’t really come into the picture. A price set point is the highest amount a person feels comfortable paying for a particular item of clothing. This can vary from item to item, and from person to person. I always find it interesting to talk to people about their price set points because they are often vastly different from mine, and it’s fascinating to hear the explanations for those differences. Anyway, most people are willing to spend $20 or less on any one piece of clothing, so price set points are not usually helpful in assessing “good value” when it comes to thrifting. SAK’s example, on the other hand, serves as a good illustration of when this approach can be helpful.

Is $300 too much to spend on a coat — irrespective of how beautiful or useful that coat might be? If you answered “no”, you might have a hard time imagining that someone would ever say “yes”, but I assure you that such people exist. I used to be one of them. (To be honest, I would still have a hard time spending $300 on a coat today, even though I did spend nearly as much on my MaxMara coat and never regretted it.) Here is another example: would you spend $2,000 on a bag? What if it was a $20,000 Hermes Birkin? Some people might say “yes” — to the Birkin — others will say “no” to the price out of hand — Birkin or no Birkin.

Price set points can provide another benchmark against which to assess “good value”. If your price set point for a coat is $500, then a $300 coat that meets all your functional and aesthetic criteria is a good deal. If your price set point is $300, then the same coat might be less impressive of a deal … unless you consider other benchmarks in conjunction with the price set point (like the retail value). In fact, I usually do that. Over time, I have developed a thrift version of price set points — like, $20 for dresses, $10 for pants, $10 for blazers, etc — but they can nudged upwards by things like original retail value.

And that is one of the main downsides of price set points generally: over time, they tend to fluctuate … typically in one (upward) direction. My bag collection is proof of that. Sigh.

Cost per Wear Calculations

As a statistics nerd, I love the concept of cost-per-wear. I track it for all my clothing and accessories … which is how I know that I (along with most people, I would imagine) am pretty terrible at estimating it. I tend to greatly over-estimate how many times I will wear a particular item, and for how long. That’s partially a function of the fact that I have a ton of clothes; no matter how much I might love a piece when I buy it, the reality is that it will be competing for wears with a lot of other stuff. Unless we’re talking about committed minimalists, the same applies (to a lesser extent) for most of us. Obviously, I don’t think that having more clothes than strictly functionally necessary is a bad thing; I think variety is fun. But it’s something that needs to be factored into CPW calculations and often isn’t.

Let me give you an example. I’m a dress person. On average (counting weekends), I wear dresses at least 2-3 times per week, year-round. Using the lower estimate, that’s 104 dress wears per year. Now, I won’t tell you how many dresses I own, because I don’t want to horrify you, but let’s use a fairly conservative number: let’s say I had 10 dresses in total. (Hahahahaha!) Assuming I wore all my dresses equally, that means each dress would get less than 11 wears per year. Now, let’s take a new dress, with a $100 price tag. If it went into my annual rotation, alongside my other dresses (and I did not purge another dress to make room for it), it would take over 10 years before the CPW of that dress became $1 … assuming I didn’t buy any more dresses after that … and that I still had the dress, 10 years later. In my case, it’s unlikely that either of those assumptions would bear out.

CPW rarely helps me decide if something is good value at the thrift store — a cute dress for $5 is ALWAYS a good deal, as far as I’m concerned — but it helps a great deal when I’m at the mall. Unless, I’m considering something I’ve already tried and failed to find at the thrift store (and the item in question is *precisely* what I’m looking for), CPW is usually the thing that deters me from getting out my wallet. When you’ve got as large a closet as I do, and as many thrifting options, it’s hard to justify retail prices.

Phew, that was quite the dissertation. Your turn: tell me how you decide if something is “good value”?