Would that I were typing to you here to share the secrets of how I've magically overcome the desire to shop entirely, that I'm channeling all of the money I would have frittered away on charitable endeavors instead, or that I've had staggering spiritual revelations on a daily basis.
Um . . .
The good news is, I have managed to identify some bad habits. I have freed up not a small amount of time that used to be devoted to shopping the latest flash sale. This Episcopalian isn't going to dive into the spiritual stuff too much here - it's well above the
***Insert disclaimer about how not shopping for one month is hardly a hardship in the grand scheme of things, that I'm fortunate to have a perfectly sufficient wardrobe in the first place in addition to my other blessings, etc. blah blah blah. Insert yuppie cliche here.***
But back to the clothes, all the Pretty clothes I'm not buying until Easter Sunday. A few things I've picked up from this, in case it's helpful to any of you:
Investing in the Classics Matters
I declared the No-Shop Month first and thought about it after . . . only to realize I had a conference and two weddings to attend, in addition to some other networky stuff that popped up - AKA, perfect justifications to set out shopping for that mythical "perfect outfit".
Thing is, until recently I've been trying to buy less things, but better things; for example, I'd rather have one very well made dress that will last me years versus a few for the same price that won't go past a season. In forcing myself to shop my own closet, I discovered I had plenty of basics that, though they may not be the trendiest thing going, are more than appropriate.
("Not the trendiest thing going" . . . "More than appropriate" . . . yes, Grandmother, I've finally become you. Happy?)
Shopping for Kids' Clothes is More Fun, and I Miss it Desperately
The number one, biggest temptation of this whole no-shop thing? Cuteness for Master P.
In fact, I confess to you that the one time I've fallen off the Lenten wagon was to buy the wee CEO wannabe Wayfarers, which he obviously needed - NEEDED! - for our beach-trip-that-wasn't:
|Apologies for the blurry Instagram repeat iPhoto here - but . . . wee tiny Wayfarers!|
Shopping (in part) Due to Boredom, Not Need
Turns out no matter what the job, my default vice when bored is to online shop. Not that I was spending every minute of the day on this - far from it. That being said, I can't believe how much time and energy I've had to devote to other goofing off favorites - reading, for example - now that I'm not shopping.
Organize What You Have
Something that has helped in shopping my own closet is organizing what I already have:
|Enter the LBD of organizing, every Type A Minus' dream|
From jeans to jewelry, turns out I had a bunch of goodies I'd forgotten about - because I couldn't find them. Um.
A Plan for the Trends I'll Invest In
This child of the 80s is ten sorts of happy about all the bright stripes and candy-colored denim floated around; this shopping break has given me pause to consider how I'll eventually incorporate those trends around the staples I already have.
The 48 Hour Rule
All of this waiting confirms for me that continuing my "48 hour rule", in which I take at least two days to think over any item before buying, is worth getting back to once this challenge is over; it isn't always possible, given our flash sale buy now sort of world, but as a general principle it has saved me money and mistakes.
Some people do this by keeping tags on new purchases for a set amount of time; I, however, am nothing if not lazy about life generally & returns specifically, so I prefer to do my waiting period pre-purchase.
The above lessons aside - after this Lenten challenge is over I clearly need a replacement pair of sunglasses. And the entire April J. Crew catalog. Then there are those Kendra Scott baubles I've been eyeing. Need need need.
More after I complete this fashion fatwah - though obviously I've learned everything I need to here. Obviously . . .