A new year, another FabFitFun box subscription. In my last FFF post, I mentioned I was debating whether or not to renew my subscription. Well – belated spoiler alert – I did. I enjoyed 3 out of the 4 boxes I got last year, and still use many of the products regularly; others went on to become presents for friends and family. In the long run, there may come a point where the box contents start being too much of “same old, same old” but for now I still enjoy the process of trying new products and discovering new brands I like.
On to the Spring 2020 box.

Superficial comment: this was one of my favourite box designs. I love butterflies. My daughter likes to use these boxes to build additions to her dollhouse. I also like to keep them around in case I have something to ship out.

Compared to the Winter 2019 box, this was very nicely organized inside. Again, it’s superficial but FFF is a splurge for me, and nice packaging adds to the experience. I did initially feel like this box was “lighter” than usual (and, indeed, they added a ‘false bottom’ to the box to make it appear shallower so that it wouldn’t look too empty) but I think it was mostly a function of my selections. There were 8 products in total, which is standard I think.

I am very pumped about these straws. I have been wanting to buy some reusable straws for ages, but never got around to it. These come with a cleaner brush and a travel case, which is very handy. They were not a customization (i.e. something I could specifically choose), but I am not sure if they came in every box. FFF is doing something new now, it seems, where they select your “extra” items for you from a list of options. The other options in this category were a mascara (not my thing) and a body wash (meh), so I am happy I ended up with the straws as they would have been my pick.
Retail price: $15USD

This was another FFF pick, and one I wasn’t initially too excited about. However, the only other option in this category was a face mask, and I got a ton of other face products in this box (and in general) so the body cream was a better pick for me. Plus, it was the perfect size to take with me to Mexico.
Retail price: $40

This was a customizable option, and I struggled with it a bit. This category included a couple of other products I was interested in, including a gravity eye mask. Reading the reviews for the latter, however, I found out that it supposedly works best for people who sleep on their backs. I sleep on my side, so I decided against it. Another option was a coin necklace by Amber Sceats, but after a disappointing experience in a past box, I have sworn off jewelry when it comes to FFF. So I chose the Cosmedix vitamin C powder as a default; it’s one of those products I will try at some point – and hopefully will like it.
Retail price: $54USD.

This was another FFF pick, which I was happy to get (although I would have liked to try the Winky Lux lip balm which also came in this category, as well). I had heard good things about Purlisse, and having tried it, I like this mask. It’s a sort of cross between a mask and a scrub. I haven’t used it long enough to know if it makes any visible difference, but it smells nice, feel refreshing and doesn’t irritate my skin, so it’s a win for me.
Retail price: $35USD.

This was a customizable option, and I debated between the brush and the Imperial Jade body oil. I chose this, ultimately, because I wanted to upgrade my daughter’s hairbrush. She has super long hair (which she adamantly refuses to cut) and it’s fine, abundant, and easily tangled. Brushing it is a constant challenge and her old Trolls hairbrush wasn’t cutting it. This brush wasn’t very impressive at first, but once I started using it, my tune changed. This thing gets the tangles out without the usual whining, and that is no mean feat. Consider me impressed.
Retail price: $35USD

This was part of the toughest category, choice-wise. Other options included some packing cubes (I love these for travel), a Tarte moisturizer, and a Tarte highlighter set. The packing cubes were the most attractive option initially, but I decided against paying the additional $15USD to add them as an extra to my box because, after applying the exchange rate, I figured I could get a similar pack on Amazon or at IKEA for much less. I know Calpak is a nicer brand and this set looked very cute, but my current IKEA packing cubes work just fine so I will probably buy more of those in the near future; we seem to need more and more every time we travel as a family, sigh.
Anyway, I ended up choosing this radiance booster in hopes that it would be similar to the Rodial Soft Drops primer I got in my last box and which has become a go-to product for me. Also, did I mention it supposedly retails for $135USD? I am NEVER going to buy a skin product that costs that much, so I figured this would be my one chance to check it out.
Retail price: $135

The selection in this category was slim for me – I wasn’t at all interested in the eyeliner or the salt & pepper mills. This speaker was a default choice, but one that proved quite popular at home. My whole family loves this thing! My husband already has plans to steal it come summer, for use in this vintage car (which doesn’t have a real sound system). It’s awesome. Only caveat is that the rechargeable battery life seems to be fairly short.
Retail value: $25USD.

This was the one product I was most excited about, even though I expect it’s just a gimmicky gadget. I was initially concerned because directions suggested it should not be used with products that may cause light sensitivity, and I know that retinoids (which I use regularly) can cause that. After looking into it a bit more, it sounds like it’s not an issue as long as you don’t use the retinoid immediately prior to using the Glo device. To be on the safe side, I plan to use it on alternate days when I don’t apply my retinoid. I’ll post an update once I’ve had a chance to see how it works.
Retail: $68USD.

And that’s the box. Overall, I am quite pleased with it and happy to have renewed my subscription. I am already looking forward to my next box – hopefully, the trend continues.

It’s spring! Well, perhaps not technically … and perhaps not meteorologically either … yet … but spring is a state of mind, after all. And in my mind, what comes after February is SPRING. Which means that I am happier than I have been since, oh, the end of August. Things are looking brighter again, and I can look back on the past month with a measure of indulgence – not that I have a lot to hold against it. February was ok. Nothing too exciting happened, but neither did anything too terrible. The new year is already 2 months old, which is a bit of a mind f*ck because, seriously, where is all the time going and why is it going so fast? Yes, we are talking about winter, which is the least fun kind of time to be had, but still. At this stage of my life, I am loathe to squander any time, even the most “blah” kind. Not to get too graphic with you, but if life were a bone, I’d be the person trying to crunch down to the marrow.

Oh: in case you were wondering, I am still having a mid-life crisis. It feels less critical, but it’s still simmering. Will this be the spring of my discontent? I hope not. Because as the above suggests, all I want to do is enjoy my life to the fullest; and part of that means getting over the fear that it’s all slipping away from me while I’m trying to figure out what it’s all about.

Anywaaaaaay. Clothes:

Not a particularly vibrant month but some colour did manage to sneak in. Lots of good silhouettes happening. I do feel like I’ll be in the mood for something more, umm, exuberant next month. Maybe not florals, but something equally (non) groundbreaking for spring. As I alluded to in a recent post, I’ve been thrifting up a storm; consequently, I have been editing my wardrobe like mad because, unlike the universe, closet space does not expand. [Don’t @ me, physicists. I’m trying to make a funny.] I have lots of new-to-me pieces to experiment with, which is fun and exciting, but I am having some trouble figuring out what needs to go, which is less fun. I always feel better when I know that my old favourites are going to good new homes (I know it’s silly to get emotionally attached to clothes, but nobody’s perfect, yeah?), so it may be time to look into another clothing sale event. This would loosely tie into some long-term plans that I’ve been mulling over lately, so it will be near the top of my agenda in March.

Hope your spring is off to a great start!

Sherry (SaverSpender on IG) posted this Guardian article to her stories the other week, and I have to admit, I was triggered by the title alone. I get all the reasons why buying mountains of (new) clothes is bad for the environment, and there are plenty of valid reasons for wanting/needing/having a small wardrobe, sustainability concerns aside. But … women with fewer clothes dress better? Really? I feel attacked, y’all.

Let’s dig in, shall we.

“A fabulous capsule wardrobe is the sustainable way”

I mean … ok? I’m not going to argue that this statement is entirely wrong but there are nuances here that are important to note. First, a capsule wardrobe is ONE way to be sustainable – and it comes with a caveat. I am aware of so called “capsule bloggers” whose purchasing habits are not all that different from the average person’s. If you’re buying a new “capsule” every season, or every year even, that’s not particularly sustainable. It’s just a trendy label on the same old wardrobe.

Second, a lot of discussions of capsule wardrobes tend to be very reductive. Not everyone lives in the same climate, not everyone has the same lifestyle. The idea, perpetuated in this article as well, that everyone can get by with a 4-piece core capsule (as presented here courtesy of Wardrobe NYC, that includes a blazer, shirt, t-shirt and leggings) is seriously flawed.
Side rant: I mean LEGGINGS, people! I’m not bagging on leggings, but even with my generous office dress code, leggings wouldn’t cut it as a core piece of my wardrobe. Did I mention these 4 pieces will set you back a cool $1,500USD? I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do when your fancy leggings are in the wash, but when money is no object, I assume these problems just resolve themselves.

Back to my point: discussions of capsules rarely seem to factor in weather, lifestyle requirements, or laundry into the equation. A big part of why my clothes last for years is that I rotate them regularly, thereby reducing the need to wash them as often. If I had only 2 or 3 blouses to wear, guess what: they’d be getting washed all the time and, no matter how much care I took of them, they would start showing wear in fairly short order.

The comeback to that is always “buy better quality” but here’s the thing: true good quality is hard to find. There is no reliable indicator like brand or price point; you have to know what you’re looking for and spend time finding it. A lot of people don’t have that luxury. And to say, “well, spend the equivalent of a mortgage payment on 4 pieces of clothing” is also not realistic to the vast majority of people.

“Fancy, limelight-hogging showpieces are a distraction best avoided. Jazziness is good, but keep it subtle.”

So, the article pays lip service to the idea that a capsule wardrobe has to be practical and serve the person’s needs … and then it immediately proceeds to tell people what they need. The answer is a blazer, apparently. I like blazers as much as the next person (who likes blazers) but the idea that everyone MUST own one needs to die. Apart from being unhelpful to a lot of people, it’s an idea that connects up with a phenomenon that other, smarter, more eloquent people have described better elsewhere: the flattening of personal aesthetic. It’s why we have Instagram Face and AirSpace – everything and everyone is starting to look the same. There is nothing wrong with Instagram Face, per se; it’s a perfectly fine aesthetic, if that’s your thing. The problem starts, as far as I’m concerned, when Instagram Face becomes so ubiquitous that it stops being an aesthetic and becomes a value standard. To go back to clothing: neutrals are good. I LOVE black. Like, a lot. White, and cream, and grey, and camel – all fine. But elevating them to be the universal standard of “good style”? No. You can dress like a rainbow and have good style.

Give me “fancy, limelight-hogging showpieces”. I adore them. They’re not for everyone. But they are for some people, and to suggest that those people are “worse dressers” because of it is not ok. There is something about the phrase “jazziness is good, but keep it subtle” that sets my teeth on edge. I am a white, middle-class, cis woman and far from being especially woke, but there is an undertone to statements like this that makes me uncomfortable. The aesthetic touted in this article and throughout modern history as the epitome of “elegant” and “stylish” is a very particular one: it’s Audrey Hepburn; it’s Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, it’s Francoise Hardy (all women cited at the very beginning of this article). What do they all have in common?

Look, I am not bagging on the neutrals-heavy minimalist aesthetic; like leggings, it has its attractions and I am not immune to them. But let me repeat: I am not inherently a better dresser when I wear head-to-toe monochrome than when I am wearing bold prints or loud colours. And why can’t a person have a capsule – yes, even a small one – of “fancy” showpieces? Sure, people might be able to more easily tell that the person is re-wearing the same clothes but so what? On one hand, this article is touting the merits of outfit-repeating, while on the other, it suggests that one ought to find ways to disguise that fact (by wearing clothing that is as homogenous as possible). I don’t get it.

Here’s my take on capsule wardrobes. They won’t make you a better dresser. Sorry, but there is no shortcut for that. Personal style is as much an art as any other creative endeavour. There is no formula for sprezzatura. It’s not effortless; don’t believe the lies. The secret to style is not to be unlocked by buying the “right” clothes.

That’s the bad news.

And the good news? First, you don’t need to be a good dresser or particularly stylish in order to be well-dressed. And by well-dressed, I mean dressed appropriately for the occasion, whatever it may be. That is all that social convenience requires. Just as not everyone can or wants to be a concert pianist, not everyone can or wants to be a style icon. (If you want to be, you will dedicate time to it, just like the concert pianist. But it’s okay to not want that, even if you enjoy listening to classical music.)

Second, a capsule wardrobe can definitely simplify the process of getting dressed. That’s obvious. Fewer choices mean fewer decisions to be made. For some people, this is a very worthwhile goal. (For people like me, the decision-making process IS the fun part.) But convenience is an entirely separate issue from style. You can be obsessed with style but wear the same thing every day because you have a very narrow aesthetic. Or you can wear the same thing every day because you don’t care about style. Conflating the two might make for a click-baity headline but it’s not very helpful.

“A streamlined wardrobe frees a little more of your time, your sanity – and the world’s resources”

Where do I begin. One, this article has apparently never heard of a circular economy, or secondhand clothing. Ok, fine. Let’s keep it basic: buying fewer clothes is better for the environment. But sanity? Holy whopper of an assumption, Batman. My sanity is just fine, thanks for the concern. I’ll say it again: I. Enjoy. Choosing. What. To. Wear. Every. Day. I like painting with my full box of colours – literally and figuratively. And, yes, not everyone does. Some people don’t want to paint, period. And while you might think that this type of article empowers them, I think it does the opposite. Go back to the premise: having a capsule wardrobe makes you a better dresser. Why would someone who doesn’t care about style – who feels overwhelmed (their sanity!) by the idea of having to choose something to wear every day – care about being a good dresser? They don’t. What they care about, presumably, is being appropriately dressed and getting on with things they actually enjoy doing. But, implicitly, this article is telling them that they should care. And that there is a solution to this problem they didn’t know they had.

And, yeah, there you have it.

Capsule wardrobes are a f*cking marketing gimmick. What, did the “subtle” (can’t make it too jazzy, after all) advertising for the $1,500 4-piece wardrobes not tip things off?

Sigh.

I know, I know: this whole post could have been condensed into: “Late stage capitalism, man.” But then I would not have had the opportunity to rant for nearly 1,500 words which is, surely, almost as pleasurable as spending $1,500 on a pair of luxury leggings. Thanks for indulging me.