Hello, dear readers!
Today I want to share with you the clothing purchases I’ve made that have turned out to be mistakes, and what I’ve learned from them. And I’m calling it now — this is just the first in a series about this topic.
Both God and my credit card company know that this could be a 100-part series, but as the late Maya Angelou once said: When you know better, you do better.
One announcement before that though. This is the final week when everyone will be able to read In Moda Veritas for free. Some of what I write will always be free, but beginning next week, most of what I write will be for paying subscribers only (as a reminder, it’s US$7 per month or US$70 for the year). You can read more about why I’m doing this here, but in the meantime, I just want to say that I’m so grateful for your support and enthusiasm for my writing, whether you’re ready to subscribe now or not.
My intention for the last few weeks has been to give you a sense of what you will get as a paying subscriber to In Moda Veritas, and I’ll just say right now that I have so many more ideas and topics to write about — advice to give, outfits to share, the part two (and beyond) to this post about my shopping mistakes, and more — and I really think it will be worth your time and your money. So please consider it.
***Exhale***
Okay! I chose two awkward-for-me things to write about today: why I think you should pay for this newsletter, and the shopping mistakes I’ve made.
Onto my mistakes. Let me start with a couple of disclaimers.
While I still have a lot — a lot — to learn, I’ve gained some shopping wisdom over the years as a personal stylist and in, ahem, a personal capacity which I’m sharing with you in the hope that it will resonate with you. You’re getting my own experience and my professional experience in this post.
Nothing can replace good old-fashioned life experience, even (or especially) if it involves making mistakes over and over and over again. (It’s at once painful, annoying, joyful and hilarious to watch my kids go through this process; and I’m suddenly inspired to write a limerick about my toilet seat.) We’ve all made bad purchases over the years, but tomorrow is a new day, so try not to beat yourself up over it.
Almost all of what I’ve learned can be distilled down to one underlying principle: Know Thyself — which is the crux of Rule #1 of my Five Questions I Ask Myself Before Buying Anything.
You need to love what you’re buying (or, at least, really like it) or you won’t be comfortable in it and you won’t wear it. What indicator lights going off in your head should you pay attention to when you’re unsure if something will turn out to be a mistake?
Here’s what I’ve learned.
Fit is paramount.
When buying clothes, fit should be the top consideration. By fit, I mean how the garment sits on your body. Fit does not equal the size on the label. Sizes are good guidance, but there are as many cuts of clothing as there are bodies, and you’ll just have to try something on to know for sure. I have plenty of pieces “not in my size” that I love and fit well.
I was excited when I found this Frankie Shop hourglass blazer at a consignment store, at a good price, and in “my size.” Unfortunately, the only time I could button it up was during weeks 0.5 to 1.5 of my cycle and, even then, usually only in the morning and before I ate something. In other words, I could rarely wear it without feeling like I was going to burst out of it. If I can’t wear it without the risk of unintentionally flashing everyone, is there a point to owning it? No, there isn’t. I ended up reselling it.
What I’ve Learned: Fit is paramount. It’s almost never a good idea to buy something that doesn’t fit well. The exception is when I am confident that I can alter it to fit well, and that I will actually take it to the tailor to do said alterations rather than let it sit on The Bench indefinitely.
My tactile experience of a fabric matters.
How a garment feels on my skin is a key factor in whether I’ll enjoy wearing it. Imagine the warm fuzzies you feel when embraced in the warm hug of your favourite knit sweater. Now imagine the opposite: a fabric from which you recoil because it’s too itchy or shiny or noisy.
I don’t do prints often, but I was drawn to the print, colour and chill cut of this Zara shirt. The problem was that I couldn’t get past the feel of the 100% polyester fabric. (BTW, I’m not saying that I dislike all synthetics — some actually feel really nice.) Every time I reached for the shirt, its sheen gave me stinky cheese face. When I touched it, it kind of crunched (?) in a way that made me cringe. I don’t even have a word for it. And it just didn’t feel good on my skin. I tried and tried, and I couldn’t get past it. Eventually, I donated it.
What I’ve Learned: My tactile experience of a fabric matters, and it will influence whether I reach for a piece in the morning. If it doesn’t feel good on me, it doesn’t matter how good it looks on me.
I need to feel like myself in it.
Some of you may know that my dad and brother live in Seoul. For two years during COVID, South Korea closed its borders to non-citizens. It was really hard not to be able to see them, so as soon as borders opened — March 31, 2022 — I booked my ticket pronto and I was off.
Oh, the tears! It was a beautiful trip which I’ll save for story time in another newsletter.
My first day, I headed to the brand new Hyundai department store in Yeouido. I don’t know if was the excitement of being reunited with my family, seeing all the beautiful clothes in the shiny new department store or the serious jet lag, but I had to have these Linda Farrow sunglasses. I was convinced they would be the hero piece that would elevate all of my foundational pieces.
And sure, pieces can do that; my silver Tibi Rudolph flats and white Tod’s loafers are two great examples. But these sunglasses didn’t do that — for me, anyway.
I tried them on with every outfit for weeks, and in every case they looked…fine (okay, sometimes they also looked bad). What I noticed was that as soon as I put them on, the vibe of the outfit as a whole felt less like me. (I sold them, by the way.) In contrast, if I were to throw on my silver Rudolphs with the same outfit, I would feel cooler, more confident! The Rudolphs elevate the outfit and move it in a direction that feels more me.
I’m absolutely not saying that you shouldn’t try things that are out of your comfort zone. In fact, I think it’s good to keep pushing your boundaries and experiment with new styles. But when you do, know thyself: does adding this piece complement and reveal more of my authentic style and self, or does it feel like an awkward interloper? The glasses, for example, felt like they were tacked onto the outfit as an after-thought.
A piece I tried that is outside of my usual range are these Versace shiny leggings. First, they’re shiny leggings. Second, they have a giant gold VERSACE JEANS COUTURE logo written across the waistband. But for some reason, I felt so sexy and good in them. I think it’s because they tapped into my imagination and reminded me of watching the Supers of the late 80s/early 90s walking the runway. I was in awe of their world and it was the beginnings of my interest in fashion. Clothes are powerful that way, and I felt powerful in this outfit.
The same can be said of these (faux) Balenciaga Speed sneakers. Streetwear is not usually my wheelhouse. Yet, these sneakers are sleek and super practical for my lifestyle. I can seamlessly incorporate them into my wardrobe and still feel very much me.
What I’ve Learned: When buying a new piece, I need to feel like myself in it. If I don’t, I won’t wear it.
Undertones matter.
Depending on your school of thought, colour and undertones matter or they don’t.
I am of the belief you can wear any colour (hue), but some undertones of that colour will look better on you than others. Some of you may roll your eyes at seasonal colour theory, but there is some validity to it, and it’s a tool I keep in mind when styling.
By colour theory, I am a Deep Autumn, which means I look the “best” (which, in itself, is subjective) in deep, saturated, neutral-to-warm colours.
Now, you may have noticed I don’t wear colours often, let alone deep and saturated ones. In colour theory’s defence, when I do wear them, they really do “brighten up” and complement my skin tone. I do, however, wear a lot of neutrals (such as black, white, oatmeal, navy, grey, camel, khaki) and neutrals also have undertones; the ones I typically wear have neutral-to-warm undertones.
I forgot the brand of this dress but it’s by a Korean brand which I got from SSENSE. I loved the cut, the chill and it’s grey. Can’t go wrong, right? Wrong. The cool grey of the dress made me feel like a corpse whenever I put it on. I had a visceral reaction to its impact on how my skin looked (unhealthy). Which is a different way of saying I didn’t love it, despite its other positive qualities. I also sold it.
That’s not to say I don’t have cool-toned clothing. I do. As a general rule, I try not to wear those pieces next to my face because, like I said, they make me look unhealthy, which means I don’t feel good in it, and ultimately don’t wear it.
What I’ve Learned: The tint, saturation and undertones of colours matter because they affect how I look and feel in my clothes.
Okay, that’s enough of my buying mistakes for now! As I was writing this post, I thought of many, many more mistakes which I’m as eager to write about as I’m sure you are to read them!
As always, I love reading your thought-provoking comments so feel free to share yours below.
With gratitude,
Irene
I have so many beautiful clothes that live in their respective closets because, while I think I’m quite savvy at applying ‘the rules’, one factor I often fail to consider is my lifestyle - especially post-pandemic. We have our own business,live on-site and my office (where I work alone) is a small space where mice often like to hang out because it is on the middle of a stable yard. I work pretty much 7 days a week and can be called out to hold horses for the vet or fill water buckets (I was delivering a foal at 1.30 this morning!) However, my wardrobe thinks I’m a socialite or a K-Pop idol who loves to travel frequently and enjoys long city lunches with elegant friends. At least it has the upside that I always have something to wear when occasions do (very infrequently) pop up...
Great article, Irene. I am still making buying mistakes. Most of mine seem to be emotional purchases. I get excited about the way something looks, I love it, and then ignore whether or not it will fit in my lifestyle.