This fall, all I want to do is purge everything that no longer serves me — toxic relationships (there were a few), anything bringing me “less than joy,” and the majority of my wardrobe. Legit, like 80% of my wardrobe is gone, into suitcases and ready to be given away.
This is epic for me, because style has been a major facet of how I’ve expressed myself for many years, a source of joy as I visualized how different pieces work together to create outfits, a coming-together of varied sources of beauty to create a seamless whole.
Individual style becomes a part of your identity, a way to display your inherent uniqueness. An homage to individuality and the miracle of being one-of-a-kind on a planet full of beings that share 99.8% of their DNA. But the more you invest in that identity, the more energy it requires. It’s a great source of joy until it becomes a chore. And then it’s likely time to liberate yourself of the paradox of choice, and free up energy for other priorities. (Check out Barry Schwartz’s book The Paradox of Choice for more on this cool concept.)
That’s certainly the space I find myself in. I’ve often stood frozen in front of my closet, my mind working out various pairings of tops, bottom, shoes and accessories like a sommelier making wine-and-cheese pairing recommendations. Before I knew it, 20 minutes and 5 trials had elapsed. I would finally only settle on an outfit when the guilt of not being somewhere important outweighed the addiction of nailing the piece de resistance of outfits for the day. Joyful…and taxing.
I feel a compelling need to get back to a kind of elegant simplicity, comfortable grace, paring down my closet to a few monochrome confections. Where the pieces I adorn are adored by me, for their comfort, elegance, simplicity and ease. Like a throw-back to wearing a uniform throughout my school days, but just a hair more tantalizing.
I’m picturing a textured black cashmere sweater, black leggings in a few textures, red-bottomed shoes in black patent and rose nude, neutral or red lips, more glasses than contacts. My most important accessories — in addition to my staple David Yurman bracelets and my most precious elephant necklace at my throat — are a steady mind and a sharp tongue. And it’s in placing the emphasis on these last, most important accessories that I draw energy from my closet and re-route it to cultivating my voice.
My real service to the world. I’ll miss you variety, color and long trysts in front of the closet. But you’re stealing the spotlight, and it’s time for my inner light to have that spot again.