I’ve been approaching Wardrobe Architect wrong. Not in the steps followed, but in the resulting frame of mind. I took what was designed to be an exercise in self-discovery and intentionality, and transformed it into yet another way to stress myself out over the search for perfection.
It all started out fine and good in the spring of 2014. I pinned “some” fashion and color images, identified shapes and styles that flattered me and that I felt good in, and started to take stock of my current wardrobe.
Over 400 pins later, I still haven’t achieved that cohesive, modular, intentional wardrobe that I was promised. (Ok, ok, to their credit the brains of the Coletterie didn’t PROMISE wardrobe nirvana, but I certainly expected to achieve it after the 14-week process. Or at least be on my way.)
I have a series of Pinterest Boards that are beautiful, inspiring, and fucking overwhelming.
In the year since I started thinking deeply about my personal style, I have noticed that those “style” words I ascribed to myself have shifted slightly. What I want from a work wardrobe has changed. What I want from a personal wardrobe has changed. Some of the projects I already bought fabric for are no longer appealing. Change is constant, sure, but I also feel a bit defeated by all of these unfinished ideas. Especially the ones with a financial investment.
Why do I feel like I am constantly playing catch-up? Right now Gillian is leading a very cool photography project that I want to be participating in. But I have nothing to photograph. Nothing even in progress on the sewing table. I make my own to-do list, yet I feel like I am behind. Like: I need to finish X before I can start Y or even think about Z.
I joke that I measure 10 times and cut once. Then measure again before I sew. But maybe I should stop making light of that. I am doing this to my own detriment. I am making myself go through a multiple step process to identify the right styles before I can even let myself buy patterns and fabric, before I can start sewing garments to fill needed gaps in my wardrobe. (Gaps that have been there for years.) In the meantime I keep buying cute dresses from the thrift store. I am not letting myself just experiment. I apparently don’t want to risk putting the time into something that I won’t like or that won’t coordinate “just right” with the rest of my wardrobe. Then I sit and stare in envy at my sewing friends, admiring their new makes, their multiple-angle photos, and their strong knowledge of their own personal style.
I inadvertently turned an exercise in personal discovery into a checklist for creating the “perfect wardrobe,” and in doing so missed the point of the process. To be intentional and thoughtful about what I purchase or create does not need to be detailed out in a blog series BEFORE I start sewing.
So, how about we make an agreement. I’ll get to work on new clothes and share why I made something in the blog post AFTER I finish it. And you’ll share in my joy of a new make. Sound good?