After the year that was 2016, aka the worst year I had ever experienced in my short 29 years on earth, the only thing that could and did bring me any temporary joy was, buying clothes.

Now this may have been okay if I shopped at Target and my yearly clothing tally had only reached, say, $1,000. But no, I have a little more expensive taste and with the

inclusion of quite possibly the most amazing internet advancement of our time: Afterpay, I had racked up a yearly clothing bill in excess of $6,000.  So, with my credit card maxed out, an Afterpay due to finish a few days after Christmas and a $200 gift voucher given to me by two of my best friends, I decided I was done!

 

I was done with 2016, with its heartache, with its tears and the empty voids it left in my soul; the ones I’d been trying to fill with beautiful clothes. That’s where the decision came from. I needed to stop. I had to break the cycle of habitual and perpetual consumerism that was using to mask my pain.  My life had come to a screaming halt during this tumultuous year, so with the beginning of 2017 I had decided I was done with it all. My plan was simple, I would just stop buying, I would stop trying to fill the holes and instead let them breath and hopefully they would close-up on their own.

To be honest though, I needed this year off to re-evaluate my life and to get my head back in the game. So here I was about to embark on another New Year (Hello 2017!), and a new Uni degree (totally achievable), but I needed something else. I needed something that was going to carry me through this year, something that I was going to have to stick to: something, I would have to hold myself accountable for, and something that would save me from financial disaster.

Now, everything always seems achievable when we first set out. We very rarely think of 
ourselves not being able to achieve our goal, optimism is always high. With my $200 gift voucher, I decided on my final purchase, the Oracle Maxi in Sage form Spell Designs. Something I would end up wearing at least 200 times over the next 364 days #GettingMyMoniesWorth

 

 

I decided that I wasn’t going to remove any of the clothing labels I followed from my Instagram so that I could “stay connected” to the fashion I was missing out on, and so I could quietly pine away in my bed as I scrolled through my feed, dreaming of how amazing it would be to wear that dress, that coat, or whatever the next beautiful new piece was. I told everyone of my plan to not buy any clothes for the year, from the people I worked with, to friends and family, really anyone who would listen. That way I felt it was more official and I also had the expectations of others to contend with if I failed. And trust me, FAILURE WASN’T AN OPTION!

My first real test came one day at work in late April, when I was wearing a long-sleeved top which I hadn’t worn in a very long time and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why!? Well it soon became apparent why, when after not even two hours, my armpit region was soaked with sweat. God damn the synthetic material that didn’t allow my pits to breathe!!

I was faced with two options, maintain composure and DO NOT lift my arms for the rest of the day or, quickly nip down to the boutique store near my work to buy a top to change into. It’s amazing what we can reason with ourselves in situations like this. My internal monologue was telling me that this wasn’t failure or cheating, it was me swapping out one piece of unwearable clothing for something I could totally wear for the rest of the year. So, it wasn’t “buying” as such, it was exchanging!

With this idea firmly planted in my mind I walked down to the boutique on my lunch break to make my “exchange”.

Now, I had shopped many times at this particular store, I’m pretty sure I’m the unwitting benefactor of their new Mercedes, so I was confident I would see at least one thing I liked. In fact, I was worried that I would be bombard with too many options and would end up going crazy, buying it all in a shopaholic induced frenzy. However, when I got to the store and begun to peruse the racks nothing was jumping out at me. It seemed all the pieces were at least 3 sizes to big, totally horrendous, or just not what I was looking for.

I left the store without making a purchase, my integrity still intact. I went back to my office and continued my day, arms firmly at my sides, happy in the knowledge I was still holding true to the course.

As the weeks and months slipped by, not buying became easier and easier. I found myself becoming more inventive with the outfits I was putting together. I would have items mended instead of replaced, and I was re-wearing old outfits I hadn’t seen in years, ones I was slowly uncovering from the back of my wardrobe. It did seem as well though, that all my clothes were beginning to give out. From the zip on a pair of jean braking off, to holes appearing in tops that weren’t easily hidden, I sometimes felt like a bit of a hobo in ratty clothes with random holes popping up everywhere! Honestly, where were all these holes coming from!!??

Why we need a ‘new’ something for every occasion is mind boggling, we women have a real aversion to re-wearing clothing, especially around the same groups of people.

Yet, when we look back 50 years, women barely had a wardrobe filled of different clothes, they had a handful and they rotated them around.  I had to learn to be like our Grandmothers, re-wearing, repairing and being creative with the outfits I was putting together. There were a couple of times I had sat on my bed at a total loss as to what I could actually wear that day. But there wasn’t a single day I went out of the house naked.

Well, almost… as things took another turn for the worst, with my limited array of wearable clothes, one day I was on a construction site for work, wearing my “work jeans”, cheapies I had picked up ages ago, as I went to climb into my work Ute, I heard a ripping noise. My whole body froze in horror, I felt behind me to where the strong double stitched seam should have been and felt BARE SKIN………………….. OMG!!!!! I had ripped the ass out of my jeans!

I quickly sat down in the driver’s seat and looked around the construction site carpark to see if anyone had noticed. I was safe, there was no one in the vicinity. Praise Oprah! Although, this now left me sans another pair of jeans.

As the months ticked by, I started to forget what buying clothes felt like. My boyfriend had joked once that when I got to the end of the year I would be so sick of all my clothes and most of them would be in tatters anyway, that I would need to go out and purchase a whole new wardrobe. However, I was hoping this wouldn’t be the case, I was sick of consuming for the sake of consuming, I was tired of numbing instead of healing and I was sick of always being held a proverbial hostage to an industry and mentality that kept telling me I wasn’t enough. I was excited to be able to start buying again, the things I actually needed.

As the final days of 2017 ticked down, I realized I had done it! I was capable, I had dedication, I was stronger than I had ever given myself credit for and I was able to see things through to their completion.

My year without buying clothes has taught me so much about myself, about our society and about healing. And even though this isn’t something I am probably ever going to repeat again, I am glad that the 29-year-old girl who took on this challenge is now a completely different 30-year-old woman, and I like this woman a whole lot more.

Happy 2018 everyone!

SA xx