I’m An Outfit Repeater (And Proud Of It)

(cover photo) Photo Credits: furuqness on Pinterest

My Story

“Lizzie McGuire , you are an outfit repeater”. The phrase echoed in my subconscious as I stared at the mountain of tiny tops I was choosing from to complete my concert outfit. My first mistake here was not planning an outfit prior, which led to my second mistake: running to the nearest mall to purchase a quick $5 top that would fit the “modern hippie” look I was going for (whatever that means). Although it barely fit me and fell apart within two months , I continuously did this, always filling up my closet with brands like Forever 21 and Amazon Basics. Sure, I’d get the Instagram likes, but why did it even matter? To understand my story, we’ll turn to a wonderful place called middle school. 

Growing up middle-class in a wealthier town meant that I was surrounded by kids who were allowed to use their parents' money to purchase new clothes seemingly whenever they wanted. (AKA, a privilege hidden behind a social norm —one I wasn’t given.) It’s not that I was made fun of; nobody noticed my off-brand Lululemon leggings, but I was aware that something about me was different. My clothes, in theory, were perfectly fine, yet I felt behind on what was “in”, and I didn’t like going to the most popular place at the time: the mall. Going to the mall meant I had to watch my friends pay for three pairs of brand-new jeans while I smiled, holding empty hands behind my back.

Photo Credits: Lake Buena Vista Factory Stores

My insecurity about being seen as different or unfashionable carried over into my social media presence, where I vowed never to repeat an outfit. Ever. So when I was old enough to get my first job, my very first paycheck took me straight to the mall. There, a cycle formed:  work, shop, and repeat , for about a year, as I tried to validate my consumption with my closet growing unnecessarily. Instagram specifically supported this cycle with hours spent looking at posts from influencers whose closets looked bigger than my room, and online friends who always looked to be doing something more fun and fashionable than I.

As much as I wish I had an inspirational story to the reasoning as to why I stopped investing in fast fashion after such a long time, I’m fairly certain it had something to do with my mom reprimanding me to stop spending money on clothes that I would only wear once. The true lesson, though, lay within the action of sifting through clothes to find out what I could donate or sell vs what I could keep. I found that most of the tops I had bought on a whim (like for that 2022 concert) had either deteriorated after one cycle in the washing machine, faded in color, or just gone out of style. The pile of clothes I had no choice but to throw out glared at me from the corner of my room, taunting me to find out what was going to happen to them.After my closet purge, I took my mom's advice and started being more thoughtful about the clothes I would spend my money on, investing in a few  durable pieces each year instead of constantly buying  from cheap brands. 

But because the growth rate of my closet slowed down, that meant my original vow to never post twice in the same outfit was broken, and I simply had to be okay with that, although 15-year-old me did not like the idea. 

The Theory

Amid this story lies my theory: social media directly contributes to why we overconsume.

We (myself included) spend hours on media apps; hours that are subconsciously telling us what to wear, pushing “microtrends”, which result in shirts like the one I bought for that concert,  supposedly part of the “indie girl” aesthetic. Brands and paid influencers will shamelessly market towards what is currently popular, or “in season”, urging us to buy into the next big thing. But I’ll save you from a couple hours of doom scrolling and let you in on a secret: the future of fashion is sustainable.

What Can You Do?

If you’re having a hard time re-wearing an outfit, especially when  you know it  will be photographed, try styling it differently with inspiration from Pinterest: layering can make all the difference! My type A mindset also allows me to plan my outfits weeks beforehand, which could help others with saving money for a more eco-friendly or thrifted item you know you want/need for a specific event.

Fashion is an investment; something I’ve had to relearn after all my impulsive spending. But with intention, it can also be a mindful activity. For myself, I try to limit the number of times I shop at the mall and rather focus on buying from   thrift stores or small business pop-up shops (Sustainable Swaps events included!), trading clothes with my friends, or researching a brand before I buy (while being conscious of greenwashing).    

I’m no hater of Instagram, but I am an advocate for being mindful of the hole we can fall into with  social media. Taking a moment to ask yourself questions like “Why does it matter if I post this outfit twice?” or catching yourself before you purchase from brands like Shein means you’re one step closer to consuming consciously. Blog reader, you can be an outfit repeater, and the world will love you for it. 

Photo Credits: Facebook/Flea to the Farm Vintage Market