Frugal Fashion from my Mum: 7 Tips

I’m in the process of trying to restructure my budget. You know that situation I have? [I feel like I should capitalize it: the Situation.] It’s making me reconsider everything I buy…which as you know, makes me think about how I can still be fashionable on the cheap. And that makes me think of my mum.

This is my favorite picture I have of my mum (taken sometime in the seventies with my dad, who bears an astonishing resemblance to Bing Crosby, dontcha think?). She died in 2001, and she taught me just about everything I know about sewing and clothing construction, as well as some hefty personal finance lessons that didn’t really stick. [I'm working to remedy this now.] Very rarely do I ever go a day without thinking of her, and when I sat down to write an article on cheap fashion, it seemed right to share everything I learned from her with you guys. She rocks, y’all. Seriously.

• Borrow. When I was shopping for a prom dress, I remember asking my mother what she wore to her junior and senior proms. “I wore a blue dress to my junior prom,” she said, “and then senior year, I traded dresses with my best friend Linda, and I wore her yellow one.” For her family at that time, a second prom dress was a complete impossibility, so she made it work another way. I’ve never done this aside from once when I wore someone else’s formal gown to a dance, but I’ve loaned things out to friends multiple times—in college, I had a white sundress that two friends borrowed to wear for their sorority initiation ceremonies.
• Thrift. My mum was a music teacher in public school. Part of her job was putting on two whole musical productions each semester (one for each of the seventh and eighth grade choral groups), which included directing, orchestration, lighting, and costumes—the most time-consuming part of all. And the majority of the simpler costumes—ball gowns, suits—were the products of her thrifting expeditions. She also looked to thrift stores for Sunday dresses, suits, and play clothes for me. My love of Goodwill shopping started at an early age, and it’s completely her doing.
• Make your own. The thing about those musicals my mum was in charge of was that not all of them featured humans wearing regular clothing. So whatever she couldn’t get secondhand, she made—papier-mache masks to look like bears or mice or purple people eaters [I wish I were kidding], space suits, poodle skirts, and sequiny dance uniforms. I was on the receiving end of her sewing a lot, too. During grade school, I had a whole array of short sets with animals printed on them. In middle school, when my long legs made it impossible to buy skirts that fit in with my school’s dress codes, we made them ourselves. When I couldn’t find a dress I liked in my size for the holiday dance in seventh grade, she made me a gorgeous one from green taffeta. [Actually, a funny story. We kept joking that I would definitely be the only person at the dance who could be entirely sure that no one else would show up wearing the same dress as mine…and then someone did. Her mother was also a seamstress and she'd used the same pattern that my mum had.]
• Keep it longer. I only remember my mum having two pairs of jeans the entire time I was alive. I can remember the shorts she wore when I was five…and they’re the same ones she was still wearing around the house when I had graduated from high school. After she passed away, we gave away clothing that was in style the year that I was born, but was still in great condition, so she’d still been wearing it. [This is probably part of the reason that I've hung onto that vintage white cashmere sweater since I was a preteen…I learned it from her. Also, two of my best dress coats are leftovers from her—she bought them in college, y'all.]
• Ignore everything but the sales. When she couldn’t fine what she needed at the thrift store and she didn’t have time to make it, my mum turned to retail…but she refused to pay full price. We were veterans at the handful of outlet malls in rural Kentucky, and I was never allowed to look anywhere other than the sale rack when we went to the department stores. Had she lived long enough to learn more computer skills, I’m sure she’d have been an uber-skilled eBay connoisseur.
• Wear good, comfy shoes all the time. Function triumphed over form for my mum, maybe out of necessity—after all, if you’re trying to control a classroom of 150 middle-schoolers for an afternoon before running off to take a chemo treatment, you don’t give a damn how you look. So it made sense for her to make her feet comfy first and foremost. Even when she dressed up for church or special events, she only wore sensible three-inch heels at most. And I’m sure that if she’d lived in a more pedestrian city, she’d be a huge proponent of carrying heels in your bag while you walk to your destination in flats.

< .li>Think about what you’re wearing and why. You know the clothing that was out of style but that she hung onto because it was still in great condition? It was my mum’s at-home uniform. Whenever she knew she wouldn’t be leaving the house and no one would be coming by, she wore old things. I’m sure she felt more composed when she wore suits or dresses, but those cost a lot to replace, so she saved them for only the most special occasions—a habit that I’m only recently picking up. I love dressing to the New York nines when I go out for work, but honestly, who’s going to care if I’m blogging at home in my eleven-year-old pajama pants? [Certainly not my dog. Nor my roommate.]

What did your parents teach you about fashion? Share in the comments!

Related posts:

1. Conscious Spending on Fashion
2. A Reiteration: Why Fashion Is Important
3. Clothing to Get Rid Of Right Now
4. The 80/20 Rule…Sartorialized.
5. My Ideal Uniform