I was banned from buying clothes - here’s what happened

This article was originally published on January 8th 2019 on The National Student.

From October to December 2018 I imposed a buying ban on myself, with just a couple of exceptions: I could buy second-hand, and I could buy something produced sustainably that could be paired with existing items in my wardrobe to make at least ten different outfits.

Ideally, though, I was to buy nothing. Here’s the motive behind my madness, and what I learnt from the challenge.

More clothes than sense 

I graduated from university in June and noticed something quite major shortly after moving back to my family home: I had a lot of clothes. Like, a lot. For four years I’d essentially had two bedrooms between which I could split all my clothes, and suddenly they were all back together in one place. They spilled out of my wardrobe, my drawers, IKEA bags, under-bed storage… I constantly had to have clothes in the wash because I simply had nowhere else to store them. 

Image credit: Pixabay

This is hardly surprising; for every social event that I go to, I’ve always felt the need to buy at least one new thing, if not a whole outfit because the alternative. Wearing something more than once in front of my friends felt like fashion blasphemy. 

Suddenly, though, so many clothes seemed ridiculously excessive and I decided the only way forward was to ban myself from buying anymore. I’m a competitive person, so I knew that the second I made it an “official” part of my life I would feel the pressure to keep it up and I was right; after posting on my social media about it, I not only felt obliged to stick to it - and I also had friends and family to hold me accountable for any potential slips I may have had.

Nothing to wear

On just four occasions did I buy anything, and I’d say they were all justifiable. The first was a second-hand faux leather mini skirt for a friend’s birthday that I got on eBay for £4.  A total bargain, and also a completely self-indulgent way of diverting something from landfill.

Items two and three actually caused a major moral dilemma. I got an interview for my dream internship but given that I had no smart clothes in my wardrobe after four years of studying in Bristol, where “smart” is basically anything that’s not loungewear, I genuinely had nothing to wear.  Unfortunately, jeans and trainers just aren’t appropriate attire when trying to make a stellar first impression in the big city. 

So, I found myself a loophole and bought a smart pair of high-waisted cotton trousers on ASOS using a gift card - in my mind, this technically means I didn’t buy them; I was given them as a gift. I also bought a pair of black suede sock boots from Topshop because somehow, at the ripe old age of 22, my feet have grown. At the aforementioned party I decided I could definitely continue wearing my old size six shoes despite now needing a size seven, but the cuts and blisters suggested otherwise - so I caved and bought something new.

Lessons learnt

Either way, I learnt my first buying ban lesson here: previously I would have just bought whatever I liked the look of, but the ten outfit rule meant I was far more discerning when making my decision. Since the interview, I’ve worn these trousers on a weekly basis and they’ve become a staple part of my wardrobe. Likewise, the boots honestly wouldn’t have been my first choice in terms of what I liked the most, but I knew they were the most versatile option and I’ve worn them multiple times over the festive period with all kinds of existing outfits. For me this is a massive change; I’m no longer buying for one moment or one occasion, but for longevity.

The only other time the ban was broken was to buy a top for a night out just before Christmas - I found something that I loved on ASOS Marketplace and, being the product of a small, independent brand, it was the only one. This wasn’t a mass-produced fast-fashion number, but an individual handmade piece that I love, have worn once, and am excited to wear again, and again, and again… 

I realise now that I used to obsessively buy new clothes to impress others, but the reality is - and it sounds harsh - they genuinely don’t care about what I’m wearing. With everything else that goes on in our lives, Charli’s new top is - shockingly - not that big of a deal. Of all the times I’ve seen my friends over the last three months, there was just one occasion when I wore something new; at every other time, I was wearing an outfit they’d seen before, either in person or online - and no one cared.

New year, old clothes

For the last three months, I’ve been on nights out, celebrated birthdays, enjoyed Christmas, seen in a new year, eaten casual dinners, eaten fancy dinners, been complimented and chatted up, loved my outfit… all in my old clothes.I’ve rediscovered old gems and experimented more with what I’ve got, and honestly I think I’m better dressed because of it (not that that was remotely the point of this exercise). I appreciate my clothes more, and treat them with greater care as a result, and I know I’ll never buy again like I used to - now, the prospect of a new item of clothing inspires more guilt than excitement because I know now that when I say “nothing to wear”, it’s almost definitely not true.

For more of the fashion team’s ventures into sustainable fashion, check out our pieces on student-friendly sustainable shopping and easy ways to recycle your unwanted clothes.