If you’ve been reading this blog for more than a minute, then you’re probably familiar with my on-going struggle to properly, and fully, define my style. It feels like I’ve been at it for approximately eleventy million years, but maybe it was only two. Regardless, it has been going on way too long. As a result, while I love most of the individual pieces in my closet, I am vaguely dissatisfied with my wardrobe as a whole. And, still, too many of my outfits – which are, honestly, perfectly fine – end up making me feel like I’m missing my mark, sartorially speaking.
I was scrolling through Instagram recently I came across a picture on my “discover” page that made my heart leap. It was this one, courtesy of the official Oak & Fort account:
This is basically my dream outfit, here and now. It is a little on the too-casual side for my office, but its vibe could easily be adaptable to suit my pretty lenient dress code.
Gosh, I love it so much.
The muted, soft colours. The textures. The slouchiness that looks polished, not sloppy, somehow. The lines.
Love.
The problem … and you can probably guess where this is going … the problem is that only about, hmmm, 40% of my wardrobe falls in line with this style, whatever you want to call it. (Scandi minimalism?) The rest reflects my old style preferences – more feminine, fitted, bold. And they are pieces that I still love in an objective sense; they are perfectly lovely. Hence, my dilemma: what do I do?
There is a part of me who says: clear out everything that doesn’t work anymore, and start with a clean slate. I mean, I would still have more than enough clothes to get dressed for day-to-day, while in the process of adding new pieces to suit my current aesthetic. Lately, I have been getting better about sticking to that approach with new purchases anyway. And yet … there is a really strong, almost visceral, inner resistance to this idea.
Which I find really interesting, to be honest – especially now that it has dawned on me that maybe my reaction isn’t necessarily tied to the clothes themselves. Maybe what I am resisting is not the letting go of clothes, but of some previous version of myself. I mean, you can call that an epiphany.
(It makes sense, though. Clothes have been a huge aspect of my self-expression for almost a decade now.)
The last few years have been full of changes and upheavals. I think it’s hard to pinpoint a moment of “rebirth” as it is happening (change is a constant process), but perhaps this is one. I always thought moments like that would/should feel sort of … triumphant, I guess. So why does it all feel so uncertain right now? Why is it so hard to let go of things which used to bring me so much joy, but don’t as much now? It’s almost as if I don’t trust myself in this moment to know what I really want. What if I change my mind? What if I will regret giving up all these clothes I invested so much time in finding in the first place?
As I ponder what to do next, I would love to hear from you: have you gone through a big style shift, and if so, how did you manage the process?