Pots

I think I'm having an identity crisis of sorts, at least as seen through the evidence of my clothes. Recently, I decided to give up the ghost and accept the reality of my new body shape. I wasn't heavy exactly, but things have shifted around. So I gave away a small bag of my tiniest clothes and bought some sad elastic waist pants. Haha. And then, voila--the last of my post-baby weight melted away and the pants sag every time I wear them. The other of my 3 purchases so far this year was also a failure, a pair of Eileen Fisher pants. The brand fits my demographic, but not me, which is a lesson to me in rule-making when it comes to fashion. In my defense, I couldn't try them on because I had a sleeping baby strapped to me at the time.

But all in all, I'm not entirely dissatisfied. The pants themselves were only a dollar and a half each, and it's super easy to give away clothes on FreeCycle and thus avoid the landfill while making some poor student or resident hippie happy.

But I haven't written much lately because I haven't had much interest in talking about clothes, though I still like reading what other people have to say. I wonder if it was the acquisition of things that kept the obsession going. I haven't gotten a lot, and every time I think about getting a new thing, knowing that I'll have to record that purchase--at least for my own sake if not on the blog--keeps me honest.

But I've just been interested in things rather different from the style world. I've been trying to make more things from scratch, like bread, yogurt, and even laundry detergent;, moving on to using cloth diapers;  planning our next foraging trip (the wild leeks should be coming up soon!), and otherwise making tiny incremental changes toward a more simple, unadorned life. We'll be moving in August to a new space, a 2-bedroom with loft in what used to be a turn-of-the century pottery mill belonging to the university's founder. I'll be one block from a waterfall and gorge. It'll definitely be nicer, though in some odd way I'll miss our current dwelling and our hermit pothead upstairs neighbor, who likes to hang out his window in fine weather and herald all our comings and goings.

Minimalism, infomercials, and my first purchase of 2012

Inspired by No Signposts in the Sea's post about her 2011 clothing expenditures, I've decided that I'll document every piece of personal clothing I buy this year, not including what I purchase for others. I'm a bit uncertain about how I'll like this, actually, since like any addict I skulk around hiding certain purchases that don't really fit into the way I'd like to think that I spend or acquire clothes.

She goes on to write about consumerism, as many others have as well. I've been thinking about that when I've been thinking about the blogosphere, but especially about what Jenny of Fashion for Writers wrote in her post about authenticity and this focus on the exterior that blogs encourage (coincidentally, I just sold her the Lover blouse I bought last year on LOGE).

It's so easy to get caught up in superficiality, images, and obsessions with fashion, especially when your life isn't going the way you want. At least, I find that I begin to fixate on things when I feel unhappy and out of control with my life.

For the same reason I used to watch informercials during bouts of insomnia in my teenage years, I am drawn to the idea that an easily consumable product could remedy some hurt or ailment, some deficiency that you didn't even know you had. I know that makes me a perfect consumer of marketing messages, but I never said it was all rational.

I still get such a kick out of appliances dedicated to doing one thing perfectly, like my Zojirushi rice cooker with its "fuzzy logic programming" and dimpled rice paddle that has for years turned out perfectly cooked pots of rice.

Perhaps that's why I like the minimalist ethic, though it seems so opposed to single-use living. It has a similar idea of there being some square hole for which you have the perfectly shaped square block, and once filled, tada. It's done. Minimalism organizes the clutter of the world by manipulating the environment of one's imagination.

But to conclude with the original intention of this post: A few weeks ago, I purchased a pleated Orla Kiely skirt in dark pink. $1.50 at the thrift store. Probably not an investment purchase, but it allows me to try out a brand I've been curious about for very cheap. Even though I've been limiting my thrift acquisitions, you have to be willing to pull the trigger when it comes to thrift shopping.

What I didn't get: recent winter sales

Passing up Creature of Comfort's 70% sale was tough, but I had already resolved that my Autumn/Winter expenditures were done. This winter has been mild, so I don't need any more woolens. Here's what I didn't get:

• Repetto BB flats in grey suede. This was the toughest call, since it was marked down to $92, but I wasn't sure about the sizing and I already have two pairs of Repettos in my closet that I hardly wear. In the back of my mind I'd like to duplicate the elegant look of classic flats with dresses and skirts that I've seen others pull off with such aplomb, but I have shoes that will serve that purpose adequately for now. At least until I know if I'll be wearing that kind of outfit more often or not.
• Wood Wood Adrian shirt in long and half sleeve. This striped shirt had been well reviewed by others, but I decided I didn't need another striped shirt. The fit seems like something you'd have to try on in person, since it looks to be cut close at the boatneck but looser in the body.
• A.P.C. bucket bag. I have a weakness for bags, but when I thought about scenarios where a casual canvas bag would be appropriate, I realized I already had other bags that I'd probably reach for first.

Baby clothes

We were given so many new and hand-me-down baby clothes that it felt too extravagant to purchase any more. It was literally crates of clothes, so many that some things were probably worn only once. It was exactly opposite of what I had planned to do, which was pick out a few things I loved on her, wash, and rotate. But with so many clothes, and so many other adjustments needed to bring a baby into the house, I refrained from buying M anything but a handful of clothes to get her through the cold weather.

Well, like everything dealing with parenting, I have found that in some ways I was right and in other ways I was wrong. On the one hand, it turned out to be useful to have quantity in the first few weeks because babies are so messy, and we were too overwhelmed to go down to the laundromat. In the past three months I have been outfitting her in whatever random stuff we had been given. She sort of looked like Punky Brewster some days, in ill-fitting mismatched clothes, some of which had slogans like "I love shopping with mommy." She was much pinker than I would have cared for, but still, I dressed her in these clothes because they were practical and they were gifts. It didn't make sense to run out and buy a bunch of redundant clothing.

But I have found--now that we're past the initial newborn stage--that she doesn't need that many clothes, and it's nice to buy at least a few things that I love for her. I wonder why I even denied myself  this pleasure when she'll be little only once. But it all worked out because at least now I know what she needs (a few long sleeve onesies, footie sleepers, and separates; and a snug pair of pj's)

And in the end, most of her clothes will join that endless merry-go-round of used infant clothing: passed on to consignment shops or thrift stores, sold in garage sales, or given to the next pregnant lady from a friend's cousin's neighbor.