So let’s talk about money. It’s nearly impossible to talk about fashion without bringing it up. How does she afford that? How can he afford to design something like that? Is she getting paid to blog about that? What are the net environmental and external costs of consuming what we consume and wearing what we wear? How does fashion play into this recession-with-a-capital-R? Can I afford to buy seventeen cashmere sweaters?
In an effort to educate myself about personal finance and hold my scant dollars like the tiny security blankets they are, I’ve developed a habit of furtively reading personal finance blogs while I’m shut in my office at my day job, making notes intermittently like “WTF is my interest rate?” I hate most writing about finance; it’s either prescriptive and dull, or it’s overly patronizing ["Spend less than you earn"? Thanks, I don't need to use my economics degree to figure that one out]. But not Ramit. He’s funny. He’s bright. And his blog is ridiculously awesome—no-nonsense advice on increasing your income via big wins in your finance, because face it: you’re not going to outfrugal yourself to being able not to worry about money. I’ve been beating his NY Times-bestselling book over the head of anyone who’ll listen to me. [He gives a chapter away for free at his web site. But if you buy it, it'll be twenty or thirty bucks well spent.]
His emphasis is on spending consciously has permeated my approach to every last buck: he advises you to spend money recklessly on the things that bring you the most utility or happiness; and then to cut costs ruthlessly on everything that doesn’t matter. He acknowledges that this isn’t the same for everyone, which is a far cry from most of the personal finance bloggers who toe the “SHOES/DINNERS OUT/VACATIONS ARE A WASTE OF MONEY!” line, and gives a ton of great examples of people who are living the good life—whatever that means for them.
I’ve internalized his rhetoric, and while my personal income level is way less than a lot of the users that are involved with his site, his ideals are still helpful to me. So I’m going to let you in on a little secret I’ve gained from reading his blog.
Spend a lot of money on the clothing you like most, need most, and wear most. Spend minimally on everything else.
I’ve talked about this before: part 1 and part 2 of Things to Ask Yourself Before You Buy and Cost Per Wear, but it bears repeating. And repeating. And repeating. Not all clothing is created equal, people. Some of it is useful. Some of it isn’t. Some of it is worth what it costs. Some of it isn’t. And you know what? There isn’t a panacea for every single broke fashionista’s wardrobe. So here’s my simple process on how to create your own conscious spending plan. [Ramit would precede this whole thing with a hilarious curse word-ridden lecture about living debt-free and funding your retirement and saving for things you say will never happen [because they always do] before you buy anything at all, but I’m going to skip that part, because although I love his advice, he’s much better at giving it, and I’m much better at taking it.Skip over to his site for that. You’ll thank me.]
- Do the math. What can you afford? You know your budget; you know how much money you make; you know approximately the cost of your bills and your retirement/house/wedding/school/travel savings plans. I talk a lot about not buying clothing that doesn’t work for your lifestyle or your body, but it should go without saying that you shouldn’t buy what you can’t afford. [Ramit would threaten to punch your face for that. No, seriously.]
- Define what matters to you sartorially, within your budget. Do you want six cashmere coats? A killer wedding dress? New Etsy-purchased jewelry every four months? Luxurious pajamas? A few really nice designer pieces, or a lot of inexpensive ones?Whatever it is, decide. And stick to it. My priorities: as many dresses made by me as possible; good quality shoes that can be resoled and fixed up time after time; a ridiculous stash of epic textures, colors, shapes, and eras to wear on stage with The Minor Leagues; and work-appropriate clothing that doesn’t make me look like someone I’m not.
- Define what doesn’t matter to you as well. I don’t care about the clothing I work out in. I’ve got a drawer full of gently-used leotards and leggings in great condition from when I was a dancer. And most of the time when I work out at the gym, I’m the only one there, so if no one sees me, does fashion matter? [1] I’d say not. [Then again, generally I'm too busy trying to balance on the elliptical while simultaneously shaking my ass to whatever Pandora plays on my Prince station, so if I fail and fall down and bruise my tailbone [which happens at least twice weekly], does it matter if I look hot if I’ve proven myself to be a klutz?] Likewise, I spend almost nothing on underpants and bras, shopping exclusively at Daffy’s and TJMaxx, because let’s be real, if anyone sees my skivvies, they’re probably on their way off my body. Ya dig? Other things I spend almost nothing on: flats [because I walk the heels down no matter how great the quality]; hair products; coats [most of my coats were my mum's or purchased at thrift a long time ago];
- Make it exceedingly easy to stick to your fashion priorities, and exceedingly difficult to stray from them. If you want to wear all high-end stuff, don’t tempt yourself with the Forever21 knock-offs. If you want to take my approach and eschew sexy underwear in favor of other pretties, get off the mailing list for those damn Victoria’s Secret catalogues and walk by the store on the other side of the street. My personal tactics: I look at regular retail stores only after I’ve made sure that what I want can’t be found in a thrift store or in the pattern library at the fabric shop. Works like a charm.
Do you all practice this style of conscious spending when it comes to fashion…or anything at all, really? Share your thoughts in the comments.
Footnote:
1. If a fashion fiend wears something horrible in a forest while a tree falls and no one hears it, what is the sound of one high heel clicking? [Damn, I'm deep.]
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