Details: Jones NY turtleneck & jacket, A&F cardigan, Babaton skirt, Twinset collar, Coach bag (all secondhand)

Thoughts: Lately, I’m loving this combo of “black & white + accent colour”, so I’ve been experimenting with different versions. Yellow is not my best colour, but in small doses we get along just great. Plus, I am obsessed with this jumbo XL Coach bag I thrifted recently, so I will take any and every chance to wear it. Can you believe I paid less than $20 for it? And it’s in pretty good shape, so there is no explanation for that price, considering small, beat-up Fossil bags are routinely marked up to $35 or more. My working hypothesis is that the thrift gods were feeling extra generous with me that day; that, or whoever priced that bag was having an “ahh, f*ck it” kind of day. Either way, I am grateful for my blessings.

Details: Ricki’s turtleneck, Classiques Entier blazer, Wilfred skirt, Michelle Ross accessories (all secondhand)

Thoughts: This vintage, made in Japan, blazer is so stunning and well made, and was priced something quite ridiculous like $8, so I simply had to get it. This purple, though, is another tough colour for me. Not only does it feel like it wants to fight me (not, like, violently but still enough to leave me looking a bit wan), it doesn’t seem to want to play nice with other colours in my closet. For example, I can’t wear it with any shade of brown because I am inevitably reminded of Cadbury and, by process of lateral association, Willy Wonka. I keep wanting to tell this purple that I’m just a girl, standing in front of a colour, asking it to love her just a little bit … or something like that. Anyway, maybe it works. Because this outfit ain’t half bad.

Details: Ines de la Fressange x Uniqlo shirt, Jaeger vest, vintage blazer, Garage skirt (all thrifted)

Thoughts: Y’all, I finally did it. I found a blazer in my favourite shade of blue. It is, admittedly, just a teeny tiny bit more periwinkle than slate blue, but IRL it pulls less purple than it looks here. Close enough; I’m happy. Of course, I had to pair it with chocolate brown because TWO things you love is better than one. This vintage Garage skirt took me all the way back to 1997. It’s got a little slit to one side because … actually why? Why did so many mini-skirts back then have it? What was so important about that extra inch or two of visible thigh? The 90s were weird, man — but we love them. Of course, I’m wearing tights, so this whole discussion is moot. But I see you, odd little 90s detail, I see you.

Details: Uniqlo sweater, J. Crew cardigan, vintage pants, Etienne Aigner shoes (all thrifted)

Thoughts: Can you believe I got these vintage leather pants for FIVE (Canadian) dollars? True story. The thrift price rollercoaster rollercoasters on. Anyway, the pants fit perfectly, and they’re lined so I don’t have to pull a Ross Gellar to put them on. Some of you will get that reference; the rest of you bébés will have to look it up.

Details: Anna Sui top, Jones NY cardigan, Ralph Lauren skirt, Fossil belt (all secondhand)

Thoughts: I decided to pull out my fave summer skirt in order to console myself about the fact that winter has been here for 3 years already. Ok, fine, it’s only been horrible for the last 6 weeks or so, but it’s wearing badly on my nerves. Actually, 2025 in general is wearing very badly, and quickly. All the more reason to find joy in simple things, like one’s outfit.

Details: Babaton turtleneck, Philip Lim x Target dress, American Apparel coat, MbMJ bag, Asos boots (all secondhand)

Thoughts: I pulled out this dress from my archive closet and you know what? It’s still a cutie. I thought my daughter might like it, but she’s decided she doesn’t, so I’ll have to make a decision soon about what to do: keep the dress for myself or pass it on. Short dresses, even more so than short skirts, aren’t really my bag right now, but this one has such a neat design and a lot of memories attached to it. I remember shopping this Philip Lim collab in the store by my parents’ house during the short window when Target operated in Canada. I don’t even want to do the math on how long ago that was. Anyway, this particular dress actually came to me later, via one of my friends who sent it to me in a clothes exchange we did some years ago. So, in a way, it’s doubly nostalgic. Sigh, I think I’ve just talked myself into keeping it a little while longer.

One of the best things I’ve done for my mental health was to establish, very early on, mile-high guardrails around my social media consumption. I consider myself a fairly “online” person but, for years, my social media activity has been confined to Instagram and this blog (and Reddit, if we want to count that, though I am almost exclusively a lurker there). I am pretty active in those spaces but also, again, within a small and well-demarcated sphere. The content that I create and, more importantly, consume is centered on my hobbies: fashion, books, thrifting, interior design, needle crafts, and so on. As a rule, I don’t follow traditional influencers (that is, people whose job it is to sell things) nor engage with ‘serious’ topics, except through things reposted by friends whose accounts I follow because I value their perspectives. The current state of the internet being what it is, I have no desire to wade into it willy-nilly and risk inadvertently stepping into a cesspool. You never know what kind of brain-rot you might pick up.

One of the guardrails I put up years ago was to never look at my For You Page (FYP) on Instagram. In the early years of the app, the algorithm didn’t get me, and I certainly didn’t get it. My FYP seemed entirely unable to deliver me content that I wanted to see, so I quickly got into the habit of growing my feed in the same way I would its IRL counterpart – mostly by word of mouth. I followed a couple of OG style blogger friends and through their follows, discovered other people who had interesting things to say about personal style. Those people, in turn, might introduce me to others and, over time, my ‘network’ grew – slowly but organically. I also learned to be ruthless about culling accounts from my feed at the first indication that our vibes were not aligned or were beginning to diverge.

Lately, though, I’ve found myself going back to my FYP. I don’t remember how it started, and the algorithm must have changed a lot in the meantime, because I was suddenly offered a lot of content that spoke directly to my interests. Which is to say: thrifting Reels. I love seeing other people’s thrift finds! Well, I love pretty much any thrift-related content, but I am especially fond of “come thrift with me” videos that offer a glimpse into other cities’ thrift scenes. And so, I started spending more time scrolling through my FYP. For a short while, it was great: just lots of fun thrift content. But then I began to notice that the algorithm took to tossing random, non-thrift Reels into the mix … and if I watched one (instead of immediately nope-ing out), it would begin to pump more of the same into my FYP. Suddenly, we had a power struggle going on.

Here’s the thing: a lot of Reels these days are quite slick and, natural curiosity being what it is, it’s easy to get sucked into watching something that you wouldn’t voluntarily seek out on your own. And while you might have no desire to subsequently watch anything like it again, it’s too late: the algorithm is convinced that you do, and that it must give it to you. You have to constantly ‘train’ and ‘retrain’ it on what it is that you actually want to be shown. I’ve started to think of the algorithm as a particularly recalcitrant toddler who must be told the rules over and over again, only to follow them for 5 minutes before running amok again. I hate it but I also found it oddly amusing … at first.

See, I thought I was in control. I was, after all, the one setting the rules. I consider myself media-literate. What harm could there be in seeing, now and again, some content that I didn’t care about? Well, it turns out, more than I realized.

At 44, I have a pretty good relationship with myself, and my body. I am proud of that because I worked f*cking HARD for it. For years. And it is hugely important in helping me navigate the changes that are part of getting older – the good and the bad. It’s a privilege to grow old, but it isn’t always easy; not in a society that has a pathological obsession with youth. I thought I was doing okay. Most of the time, I feel ageless, and what I mean by that is: I don’t feel myself defined by my age. The body, of course, carries its own clock, but I find that age is, for the most part, a state of mind. I didn’t feel 44, so when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see 44. Until one day, a few months ago, when I looked and suddenly saw myself looking, well, old.

At first, I blamed it on perimenopause wreaking more of its particular kind of havoc on my face. But it was strange. I hadn’t noticed a gradual change; it was more like a falling off a cliff. Had it been gradual, and had I, somehow, just been blind to it before? Or was there a sudden and dramatic downturn? Is that how getting old happens – not a gentle slide but an avalanche? I was swarmed by anxiety-riddled questions and oppressed by the knowledge that I’d have to figure out how to come to terms with answers that I might not like. The idea of losing what I had worked so hard to achieve – being comfortable and content in my own skin – was intolerable. I knew I had a problem, and I knew I was the problem.

And I was right, but not in the way I originally thought.

There was nothing different in the mirror, and nothing wrong with my eyesight. I had just watched one too many makeup videos on Instagram.

Once the algorithm decided that I was suddenly interested in beauty-related topics, the floodgates opened. Dermatologists talking about various cosmetic procedures. Random women talking about facial massage. Other random women talking about facial exercises. Gen Z girls talking about the mindboggling array of makeup products required for a ‘no makeup’ look. And endless talking heads breaking down how Lindsay Lohan and Demi Moore are aging backwards, Benjamin Button-style.

So many images of women’s faces coming right at my eyeballs. Every single one of them filtered.

It clicked, eventually. The number of faces I was seeing, up close, online was far exceeding the number of faces I was seeing, equally close, in real life. I’m an introvert, for one thing, so I don’t tend to see a lot of people on a regular basis offline. And when I do, I tend not to put my face right up to theirs, close enough to count their pores. It’s not considered good manners. I’m sure that, if I did, I would observe a wide variety of skin textures. Online, skin texture does not exist. It has been filtered out of reality. On top of whatever expensive skincare, procedures, and makeup they may have, people posting algorithm-favoured Reels are using impressively sophisticated video-editing tools that allow them to control their images in much the same way that celebrities have done for decades. And the impact of those images is correlated to the volume being consumed. The more you see it, the more it ends up feeling like a norm. The more you end up feeling like a freakish outlier.

Now and again – but much, much, much, much less frequently than its opposite – I come across a Reel that shows a woman my age (or older) whose face is unfiltered and unretouched. And I experience the shock of recognition. I’ve seen something similar before. In my own mirror. But here’s the kicker: after a stream of poreless faces, it feels jarring to suddenly see skin texture. Having that reaction to social media content made me realize that I had, inadvertently, turned my own face into a jump scare. There was no hidden time bomb primed to go off right after my 44^th birthday. My face looks the same now as it did a few months ago. I didn’t need a new face cream or a visit to the dermatologist; I just needed to take my social media goggles off.

I’ll leave you with this proposition, which has never steered me wrong when I’ve remembered to hold myself to it: if you find yourself feeling bad about something in your life, don’t take it for truth and rush to fix it; instead, first ask yourself why. Only when we know why we feel bad can we properly decide what we ought to do about it. If the answer is “social media”, you can be sure that the solution will not be found in anything you do offline, but in how and what you consume online.

Details: J. Crew shirt, Banana Republic tie, Fred Perry cardigan, Ralph Lauren skirt, Fluevog shoes (all thrifted)

Thoughts: Jenna Lyons meets Thom Browne. I really need to learn to how to tie a tie because this is a look I def want more of this year. I love purple but struggle the most with it when it comes to colour pairings, but black and white are a fail-proof option when dealing with a “difficult” colour. I used to do a lot of graphic monochrome looks, but I’m now pivoting to this monochrome+accent colour formula. Keep an eye out for it, you’ll see more soon.

Details: Ann Taylor turtleneck, Giorgio Armani blazer, Donna Karan belt, Roksanda skirt (all thrifted)

Thoughts: I had to go to the office again recently, and this was my “trying to blend in” outfit. By that, I mean trying to look vaguely “corporate office worker” without entirely losing my personal flair. I always end up wanting to tone down by usual work attire (at home, anything goes!) when I go to the office, even though (a) I don’t see that many people, and (b) everyone knows me and knows what to expect from me, outfit-wise. It’s like this weird reflex slash relic of my pre-pandemic sartorial life. It does feel a lot more like I’m putting on a costume, rather than just wearing my inner thoughts on the outside (which is what my usual outfits feel like). It’s not a bad thing, necessarily; just a thing I’ve noticed that makes me go “huh, interesting”.

Details: Smash & Tess bodysuit tee, Jones NY jacket, UO pants, Anne Klein belt, Alexis Bittar necklace (all thrifted)

Thoughts: Funnily enough, this outfit is more or less in the same class as the one above, but I didn’t think to wear it at the office — probably because of the colour. Maybe I’ve just come to associate the office with somber neutrals, haha! Anyway, I love this shade of green so much and I was pumped to find this vintage-ish suede jacket for not a million dollars at the thrifts. Somebody at VV was off their pricing game that day, to which I say: suck it, I win!

Details: Ricki’s turtleneck, vintage sweatshirt and coat, Banana Republic jeans, Office London boots, Coach bag (all secondhand)

Thoughts: Jessica Fletcher remains one of my style icons, in case you couldn’t tell. Grandma’s couch florals will never not have a chokehold on my psyche, and the colours of this coat are so 90s, I can’t even. That burgundy and pine green combo? Classic. And it pairs beautifully with my Myrtle Beach vintage sweatshirt that I managed to wrest back from my daughter’s clutches recently. Not to mention my vintage green Coach. So matchy, so vibin’. JB would be proud, I think.

Details: Orvis shirt, Wilfred vest, Amaryllis jacket, Kate Hewko skirt, Chicwish skirt, Laredo boots (all secondhand)

Thoughts: The snow ruined my photos, but I didn’t let it ruin my outfit. I was going for a Vivienne Westwood-inspired, layered fit. And by layered, I mean layers — multiple. The key to surviving winter without losing my mind (by having to succumb to the dreaded winter parka) is to keep adding thin layers of cotton and wool (and tulle!) until my body temperature reaches “toasty”. Four usually does the trick, and doesn’t take me into Michelin Man territory.

Details: Ricki’s turtleneck, Abound jacket, Fossil belt, Banana Republic jeans, Office London shoes, Coach bag (all thrifted)

Thoughts: I almost bought a faux fur leopard print short coat at Winners after the holidays, but stopped myself because (a) it was $70 and made of plastic, (b) I am trying to not clothes shop at retail at all this year, and (c) I’m not sure I want to put much more money on leopard. Animal prints have never been my favourite and while I am digging leopard at the moment, I’m not sure if it will ever acquire “classic” status in my closet. That being said, I was ALL over this puffer jacket when I saw it at the thrifts; NWT and under $20 and it looked full of potential. And you know what? The potential is definitely there. I’m really digging it so far … and it’s only a matter of time before my daughter tries to steal it. Not that I’d blame her.