I’m putting together a few spring uniforms to make my life easier — today, I’m sharing my third one. In case you missed it, here’s the first and second.
I’m excited about this post! It’s a long one, and it’s all about a new life chapter I’m entering — and how a uniform is helping me find my footing. I take you deep into my thought process behind outfit-making, so settle in and get cozy.
Quick refresh: A uniform is a tweak-able outfit formula tied to a specific activity or life scenario. They help me bypass common dressing woes — indecision, frustration, or that exasperated desire to throw away all my clothes and start over.
Let’s get into it!
For all of my 20s, I was a wedding photographer. Without my camera, I was socially anxious and self-conscious, but with it, I could connect with people in this effortless, medicinal way. I loved the art of photography so deeply that I met every challenge that came with it — high-pressure jobs, traveling on my own, learning to run a business. It was a pivotal time in my life, and it grew me into adulthood.
When Unfancy took off in 2014, I made the decision to hang up my camera and dive full time into fashion and writing. Words on a page had a similar effect on me as taking photos. It was a way to communicate and connect with people without having to be “the outgoing one.”
I thought my photography days were behind me. But you know life — it’s full of surprises! And recently I found my path winding back around to photography. I started working part-time as a product photographer for an interior designer, and I’m so happy I get to reconnect with this beloved art form!
Most of my adult life, I’ve worked from home, but now I go into a beautiful shop where I’m around interior designers and customers. It’s rousing this artistic, sculptural side of my style that’s been dormant lately.
I want to dress the part. I’m excited to dress the part!
But how?
My solution is to create a uniform — an outfit formula designed for that specific setting — and it’s not as limiting as it sounds, promise.
If you too are finding yourself in a new chapter with something new to dress for, here’s my process, step by step:
→ A good uniform is rooted in your daily activities.
We’re getting right into the weeds here, so stick with me. Here’s 4 things I need from my clothes for this new photography job:
Sturdy: I’m lifting heavy objects, moving things, and getting dusty — can’t be wearing delicate things that snag or stain.
Unrestrictive. Need to be able to move about freely and quickly.
Cool, temperature-wise. Important because it gets hot when I’m shooting — either from lights or windows or the constant movement.
Cool, vibe-wise (and professional too). This is the tension point, because it’s asking me to put sturdy, unrestrictive, and cool (temp-wise) into something that looks beautiful, artistic, and professional. Working within that tension can be perplexing at first, but there’s no feeling so good as finding a solution after pressing through the puzzle. (That feeling is why I’m a stylist.)
Here’s mine for my photography job:
Just a few photos will do — the less, the better, actually. You can even collage your inspo photos together in Canva if you want.
To take it from vague inspiration to actually helpful, jot down what you like about each photo. Keep it short. This creates a concise visual reference you can come back to.
In previous posts, I’ve harped on about how:
→ A good uniform is built around one key piece that’s so easy to wear, you can wear it without even thinking.
Buuuut…sometimes you’ve got to change up the approach. Since I’m dressing for a new job (and what feels like a new world), I’m not sure what my key piece would be. So I took the opposite route.
This time I picked an anti-key piece — a piece that’s not allowed in this uniform — and it’s: plain t-shirts.
Gasp! I know. A plain tee is the cornerstone of my typical style. But taking plain tees off the table signals to me that this uniform is different. This one’s about creativity, pushing myself a bit, and trying new things.
Now it’s time to take my functional needs, tiny moodboard, and key piece (or well, anti-key piece) and ask myself:
What do I own that might work? What do I own that has similar energy?
Sitting with these questions is where the juice is! Don’t scan your closet for 30 seconds, then proclaim, “I don’t have anything, I’d have to buy something.” Nooo. Open up your closet and really look. You likely won’t have the exact pieces you think you need (I didn’t either), but pull things that have a spark of possibility anyway. Anything even remotely reminiscent of your tiny moodboard.
If you have clothes in a spare closet or in storage, look there too. I did this — pulling pieces I hadn’t worn or seen in years, like some old Elizabeth Suzann pieces (IYKYK) — and it was magic! These pieces have been zipped into garment bags, just waiting for their day in the sun again. And that day has come! I was DEE-LIGHTED to style these old pieces in updated ways! So much so that I had to do that obnoxious spelling!
I don’t necessarily need new clothes to access a new version of myself. Rediscovery can feel just as exciting as buying something new.
Lay everything you pulled on your bed and start trying things on. Play and expect a lot of failure. But keep iterating, zhuzh-ing, and trying until you…
Without further ado, here’s the formula for my photography job:
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.