I’ve been trying not to buy clothes lately— partly because I don’t really have the money for it and partly because I already have way too many clothes. I’ve been doing OK for the most part, however, I find myself occasionally slipping while I’m strolling through Target or browsing online late at night when I can’t sleep. ( Like, um, now.) Or, you know, those times when you’re just too lazy to do laundry so you’ll just buy new underwear and call it a day.
Hey, don’t act like you’ve never done it before. Stop judging.
I don’t really wear half the things I own. And I often find myself wearing the same thing over and over. A pair of jeans, for example. Or a sweater. Yes, I have many other sweaters to choose from but sometimes I’ll just wear the same one multiple times until I’m sick of it.
I used to go shopping all the time. I used it as a form for retail therapy a lot of the time. And, honestly, who can afford real therapy, anyway?
I needed that perfect top or a new suit for a job interview or a dress for whatever occasion. Or I really needed to have the Bob Marley t–shirt, because I mean, who doesn’t need a Bob Marley t-shirt? I’d often shop when I was bored or needed a pick-me-up. I wanted to be like those girls from the Mean Girls movie— just spending their Saturdays at the mall picking out the perfect outfit just so they’d have something to wear for the next time they go shopping.
(Disclaimer: I do not actually want to be a Mean Girl. Sorry, Lindsay Lohan.)
But I wasn’t exactly the designer handbag-type-of-girl.
Mama raised no fool.
I’ll buy something if I needed it or really, really wanted it or couldn’t stop thinking about it. Like, I’ll have dreams about it. However, I had a habit of looking through sales and clearance items—a dangerous but true story. And if something’s on sale, you have to buy it, right? It’s like a rule or something.
I’m not saying that I still don’t do this. But I do this a lot less. And I do it knowing that whatever is in my closet or whatever I’ll add to my wardrobe does not define who I am. Yes, in a way, it does by saying that I may have good taste. But in no way am I any less of the person I am capable of being if I didn’t have a closet filled with clothes. And neither are you.
You don’t need the perfect dress to be accepted into society’s social norm. I used to think that you did. It’s one thing to look like a hobo on the subway, but it’s another to define your self-worth with what you wear.
And, really, there’s nothing wrong with looking like a hobo. Or dressing like one.
Your handbag does not define who you are. It’s the person carrying the handbag who really matters.
At the end of the day, it’s just a bag.