Cui Bono?

My best friend, Colin, is known to be sartorially spot on. Friends in the mostly conservative DC area anticipate his ensembles. He has often approached me to consult on new purchases and always, he knows himself, knows what he loves, and knows how he will wear what he buys. Many of his women friends seek his input on their wardrobes. Colin knows men’s and women’s clothing and has a good sense of what will work for a particular women. So I was flabberghasted when he burst into my low-telier1 (1) to tell me about a friend who wanted to build a wardrobe: “I told her,” he said. “‘Just get a few neutral skirts and trousers, some neutral shirts and sweaters, and a couple of neutral jackets. Then mix them up and use scarves and other accessories to make different looks. That’s what Drusilla does.’”

“No I don’t,” I said. “I never do that.” After 20 years, how could he think that of me?

Don’t get me wrong, some women swear by and are very happy with the formula Colin gave his friend. But my tastes are much more eclectic. That doesn’t mean I don’t wear classic pieces. I do, nearly everyday. But my collection of neat jackets contains pieces like this vintage cropped one in red wool. The deep wool pile is heavy enough to be used to make a very warm winter coat. Each time I wear it, I am amused that someone in the 1950s chose to make such an impractical and whimsical jacket that is too warm for much of Autumn, too short for most of Winter, but still perfect for me.2 When one button fell off, I searched, to no avail, for thread in the original weight and colour. So I removed all the buttons and resewed them using marigold silk twist. More lovely, private whimsy.

Unopened in my inbox are many emails telling me about the 10 pieces I need to get through Spring, the wedding season, a holiday in Europe, a holiday in the mountains, a week in Vieques or Bermuda, a staycation, etc. That’s at least 60 pieces just for one season. By the end of the year, if I bought all those capsules, I’d have to find space for about 240 pieces! And all the shoes and bags and everything else! Even more daunting, I’d have to remember to wear all of it. That would never happen. First, except for fabric and books, I just can’t spend that much time and energy shopping for myself. A dozen pieces (twenty tops) per year is pretty much my limit. I’d never find space in my closet. Nor would I figure out how to work all that clothing into my existing wardrobe.

I love the clothes I already own and “[c]lothes …pick up their own memories.”3 Any time I please, I relive that hot day in May when, a 17 year-old college sophomore, I walked into Botticelli’s in NYC and asked in a shrill voice if they’d accept a deposit for the pair of perennially on-sale, lavender ballet flats I had ogled for two years. I left all the babysitting money I’d earned that week and returned the following Saturday with more. Finally, they were mine.

My black, wool Matsuda trousers were $35 from a resale vendor at a flea market in NYC. I’ve worn them to court, parties, Church, and funerals; worn them on more occasions than I can remember.

My entire wardrobe is my capsule: most things work with everything else. If they don’t seem to, I find ways to expand their use. (I don’t really believe in limited pieces.) I wear my black, Donna Karan midi evening gown with my COS denim jacket and a favourite belt. The gown reads like a sheer skirt which is spot on this season. I’ve curated my wardrobe so that with little thought or exertion, I’m dressed just right.

I think many women want to dress for their life with little thought or exertion. But not every woman wants an eclectic wardrobe. Sometimes SAHMs just want to dress, when necessary, on par with their professional spouses. Women who are still growing their families don’t want to change their wardrobes whenever they have another child. Other women want to focus on their work and still dress beautifully for the various occasions of their lives. Many women who work long hours but don’t want the usual thing,4 often need help dressing for their work environments in ways that won’t cost them the precious time they have for the rest of their lives. Women with limited budgets want beautiful wardrobes too. As do those who don’t know the first thing about dressing for their bodies and their actual lives.

About a year before I moved to Los Angeles, I was redesigning a wedding gown for a friend who often asked where she could find clothes like mine. Once again, I gave her my usual resources and added, “I’m researching brands that make great clothes ethically; I’ll pass on what I find.” “I’m waiting for your brand,” she said. I did consider developing a brand if my health cooperated5 but that day I found myself saying, “I’m never going to have a brand. There are already too many brands. What women need is help to define their personal style. And then they need help building a wardrobe of beautiful clothes that they love and will take care of because they’ve found what’s right for them and want to wear their clothes as long as possible.” What I realized later is the place to start is with the clothes they already own.

I’m convinced that’s true. Women need ways to learn what I began learning in my early life and then continued teaching myself when my role models were no longer available. Like everything else, building a wardrobe takes work (and time). Once we accept that, the actual work is much easier.

So what wardrobe goals do you have? Do you think it’s worth it to have a wardrobe that really suits you and works for your life? Please comment. And hit the subscribe button. WellCraftedStyle will be free until the end of April. Beginning 1 May some articles will be free and others for paid subscribers. But by then, I believe you’ll really want to build your own well crafted wardrobe.