It has been more than 3 months since I adopted a new approach to personal style, one premised on the notion of style avatars or personas with well-defined aesthetic profiles. My chosen avatars – the Prince, the Adventurer, the Artist, and the Bohemian — have helped me to curate my existing wardrobe and have guided my shopping decisions in recent months, with the result that I feel much more comfortable with both the contents of my closet and my daily outfits. There are still occasions when I find myself stepping outside the boundaries of my style Venn diagram (there is quite a lot of overlap between my avatars), with predictable results — I end up feeling like I’m wearing another person’s outfit — but I am trying to be patient with myself. I am so used to wearing clothes in certain ways that it’s not always easy to re-imagine them in new ways better suited to my new aesthetic. Some trial and error is to be expected.

As I stopped doing monthly outfit recaps a while ago, I thought it would be interesting to revisit that concept now and see if the progress I feel I’ve made is actually reflected in my outfits. Below, I’ve compiled my work outfits for the month of July (less a couple of Fridays because of they wouldn’t fit in this format):

What pleases me the most is the cohesiveness of these looks. I used to feel that my outfits in the past were “all over the map”, so to speak; I never truly knew why, but that always bugged me. I think it has to do with what clothes mean to me. Style is an expression of the individual, a reflection of who they are (or want to be). Looking at collages of my old outfits left me feeling like I was someone who didn’t really know who she was. I was wearing things I thought I should – because the clothes were nice, or they looked flattering, etc. But there was no clear intention to it all.

These looks are much less likely to be crowd pleasers, I do know that; but they very much reflect the person I feel I have become. They are quirky and eclectic and a maybe little bit flamboyant, but in an understated kind of way (if “understated flamboyance” is not an oxymoron). They are not trendy, except perhaps by accident. They are pieced together from thrifted finds, because I am a woman who loves finding beautiful things in the rubbish heap. There is some broader life metaphor in there, somewhere.

What surprised me the most is all the brown. I don’t think of myself as someone who loves earthy colours, but there is an undeniable theme happening in these photos. I don’t mind. I have been increasingly drawn to muted colours, from one end of the colour spectrum to the other, because I find them soothing and peaceful. I do still like throwing in a wrench of a bright colour every now and then, though … just to keep things interesting.

A reader recently asked me about how I organize my overflow or “archive” closet, which I thought was a topic that others might enjoy. Before I talk about my methods, let me define what we are talking about. Separate from my closet, I have a secondary clothes storage area – a small rack in the basement – where I keep clothes that are not part of my “current wardrobe”. I do not separate in-season and out-of-season clothing (with the exception of outerwear), as most of my items can be worn year-around. This is why my overflow closet is truly more of an archive than anything else. It’s where I keep things that I don’t wear anymore, but which I am not planning to purge in the short-term.

How do I decide what goes into the archive? And what happens to it? Read on.

What Gets Archived

Broadly speaking, there are 2 categories of clothing in the archive: things that don’t fit anymore, and things that aren’t my style anymore. Needless to say, in both cases, these are things that I still like a lot – otherwise, they’d be gone lickety-split; my general rule is to purge any pieces I don’t wear or foresee wearing in the near future.

A quick aside about out-of-size clothing. In general, I don’t believe it keeping clothing that is too small; at a psychological level, I don’t like to put myself under expectations of losing weight. That approach has bit me in the backside only once (I didn’t end up losing pregnancy weight until 1.5 years after my daughter was born, long after I had purged a bunch of smaller clothing), but I don’t think it will happen again given my current circumstances. My weight has been stable for the last 3 years or so, but if it were to fluctuate in the future, I would expect it to go up (and then hopefully rebound to current level) rather than go down. With that said, my approach following weight loss would be to keep clothing in larger sizes – particularly classic staples like favourite blazers or black trousers – around for a bit longer than the usual 3-6 months, just in case. We are talking 12-18 months, tops. Fashion cycles pretty quickly, so for potential weight fluctuations that are more than 2 years down the line, I will take my chances with whatever is available in stores at that point.

In light of the above, you shouldn’t be surprised to know that most of my archive closet is devoted to “out of style” rather than “out of size” clothing. Out of style clothing is stuff that I used to love but that doesn’t fit my current aesthetic. Of course, to make the cut – because I can’t keep everything – they have to meet the following (loose) criteria:

1.Must have been an old favourite piece AND

2.Must be either (a) a truly classic staple; (b) a unique piece; or (c) a high-end designer.

I will confess that a good chunk of my “out of style” archive is composed of old Anthro pieces, which fits mostly under 2(b) above.

There is actually a third category of stuff in the archive closet, which is comprised of my special occasion (i.e. cocktail) dresses. Technically, these are part of my “regular wardrobe” but they take up a fair bit of room, and I don’t need them to clutter my small (working) closet.

How the Archive is Curated

Because my everyday wardrobe sees a fair amount of turnover, my archive closet receives a regular stream of contenders. To keep it at a manageable size, I edit/purge/curate it 2-3 times per year. This is not an easy process for me. Pieces that end up in the archive in the first place are things to which I have a strong emotional attachment; plus, they are already non-functional, otherwise they’d be in everyday rotation. So the usual rules for editing don’t apply. Over time, I have found that the best way to avoid long-term regret is to ask this two-part question:

How easy and how expensive would it be to replace this particular item?

It’s important to consider both parts, and to understand precisely what you would be looking to replace. Some things are easy and inexpensive to replace, regardless of retail cost, in the sense that there are other, cheaper iterations of the same thing readily available in the market. I try not to get attached to labels; if the only reason why I’m keeping something is because it’s a specific designer … I should not be keeping it. If it’s a specific designer and superior quality (not always a given) – or a specific designer and an unusual pattern or silhouette – that’s another story.

What about things that are easy but expensive to replace?

For example, as I mentioned above, I have a few Anthro pieces in my archive. These tend to be from the 2010-2015 era, and have some details that make them unique in my eyes (typically, the print). They would not be easy to replace with something I could purchase at the mall in 2018 – while I could get another floral print skirt, it wouldn’t be that particular floral print, and it’s that particular print that makes the skirt special to me.

However, it would not be too difficult to find these pieces online – on eBay for example. (Being Canadian, I don’t have access to Poshmark, more’s the pity.) Some “old” Anthro pieces can be found for reasonable prices on eBay; some can be surprisingly expensive. If I paid <$20 for a dress that is currently listed for $80 or more, I will probably hang on to it for a while. Every 6 months or so, I will re-evaluate if I still love that piece enough to justify having it taking up space in the archive. If I’m still undecided about something that’s been sitting in the archive for more than a couple of years, I will also throw another question into the mix: how much money could I reasonably expect to make if I were to sell that item? Sometimes, $50 in hand is worth more than the hypothetical $100 it might cost to replace the thing down the line if I come to regret selling it. The key with all of these questions, is to take the emotional component out of it, and think as pragmatically as possible. As soon as I start thinking about what an item means to me, outside of its (replacement) value, things tend to go south quickly. I’m a sap. There are a few things that I likely will never get rid of. My Louis Vuitton Alma MM bag is a good example. I don’t use it currently, and I don’t foresee using it regularly any time soon. It’s in fantastic shape and I got a great deal on it years ago. If I were to try to re-sell it now, I would probably make my money back even after accounting for consignment fees, but I would never be able to replace it for the same amount. It’s a bag that could become a classic in time, so I prefer keep it around and pass it down to my daughter (or granddaughter) someday. I don’t have a lot of pieces that fall into the category of “fashion heirlooms”, but this is probably as close as it gets. If you have something like my archive closet, I would love to hear about how you use it. And if you’ve got other wardrobe management question for me, hit me up in the comments.

90s Throwback

To be clear, I am referring to my outfit, and specifically the vintage Jones NY skirt, and not my own self. We would have to throw back a lot farther if that were the case. Ba-dum-tish. Did I mention that I’m turning 38 in, oh, one week’s time? I don’t feel a day over 22, and I am always slightly mortified when I think about the disconnect between how I see myself and how others see me. So I try not to think about it, which seems like the only sensible solution.

Anyway, the outfit. I don’t know how old this skirt is, but it has a 90s vibe to it which makes it “on trend” with the current revival of that decade. The trendiness isn’t what attracted me to it, though it’s always nice to feel even accidentally fashionable; I have been moving away from pencil skirts lately and looking for new silhouettes. Midi and maxi skirts intrigue me, and the details of this particular skirt are very good. It’s minimalist, but not dowdy – that’s a stealthy slit that comes up past the knee – and the quality is excellent (fully lined, 100% lightweight wool). Keeping in line with my Artist persona, I paired the skirt with a relaxed fit, chambray-like Theory top, and a structured blazer for contrast. The chunky necklace is from Chico’s, of all places, but we’ll just pretend it’s Anthro or something, mkay?

Autumn in July

The weather has been all over the calendar lately; it’s hot one day, cold the next, and sometimes it’s hot and cold all in one day. My office AC is another matter, and only slightly less unpredictable. Don’t take this as a complaint, because anything that isn’t winter is a good thing in my books, but it’s been a weird summer. Which explains as much of this outfit as can be explained. Actually, it was a very weather-smart choice; the jacket was perfect for the chilly morning, and the sleeveless shell was perfect for the office temps. The top covers enough of my shoulders that I don’t feel too exposed without a topper. I do love the full, blazered effect because it’s got that professor vibe I love – I’m calling it “the Adventurer goes to Oxford”.

Prairie Chic

This is one of those divisive outfits that you’ll either love or hate. Needless to say, I fall into the first camp. This Wilfred dress was a recent thrift score; it’s 100% cotton and I adore everything about it. Rather that pile on more volume – though it’s only a matter of time before that happens, fyi – I decided to dig up this old Tabitha cropped jacket and go for a sorta Neo-Georgian-by-way-of-Little-House-On-The-Prairie effect. Remember Pride and Prejudice?

Seven Years

That’s how old my son is. Seven years. Does not compute. He’s only about a foot shorter than me, and some days he looks (and acts) like a teenager and I. Just. Cannot. Compute. Does it ever became more plausible? Like, am I going to be looking at him in 20 years’ time and wondering how it’s possible that he is my son – that small, wrinkly, little bean they put in my arms at the hospital one day?

Leaving aside the existential questions, this was the outfit I wore to the celebratory dinner. Per the birthday boy’s request, we went to Boston Pizza – he is only 7, after all. This linen Lord & Taylor dress was perfect for the occasion, though I’m not sure it wouldn’t be perfect for every occasion. It’s literally a big sack, but it’s also somehow the most flattering shapeless thing ever. I’m also quite madly in love with these Barbara Barbieri sandals. I don’t own any other high heeled sandals, but these are very comfortable, and the spikes add a bit of edge.