I think I’ve been stocking my closet like I’m waiting for a snowstorm.
You know that feeling when a storm is coming and suddenly six cans of soup doesn’t feel like enough? You’d better grab a few more. And some bread. And batteries. And maybe another case of water, just in case.
Apparently I’ve been doing the same thing with clothes.
(AI generated image)
Black blazer? I have one.
Actually, I have several.
Boots? Covered.
Sweaters? Please.
Jeans? We don’t even need to discuss it.
There is almost no fashion emergency that could occur for which I am not adequately prepared.
And yet I still want to shop.
Fall is my weakness. The colors. The textures. The layers. A great jacket over a sweater. Boots. Denim. Suede. Leather.
Everything feels new again.
So I put something in my cart.
And lately I’ve been doing something unusual.
I’ve been walking away.
Not because I don’t like it. Because I realize I already own it.
Maybe not that one. But a version of it.
Today it was a plaid jacket. I saw a fabulous one at Evereve that would be perfect with all of my fall outfits. I almost put it in my cart.
But then I remembered.
I already own a plaid jacket.
Mine is brown, black and cream. It’s longer. It’s a different style. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it.
It’s just...less exciting somehow.
And that’s where I get stuck.
The jacket I own isn’t worn out. It isn’t ugly. I haven’t suddenly stopped liking it. But the new jacket feels more current. I can already picture myself wearing it. And suddenly the perfectly good plaid jacket hanging in my closet feels like the consolation prize.
So do I buy the new one and get rid of the old one?
Do I keep wearing the old one because I already own it?
Or—and this is how I got into this mess—do I buy the new one and keep them both?
Here’s where it gets weird.
If I already own the thing, and I like the new version better, why don’t I just get rid of the old one?
You would think that would be easy.
It’s not.
What exactly am I afraid is going to happen if I let go of something I might want again someday?
Why does an overflowing closet make me anxious, but getting rid of the things overflowing it also makes me anxious?
Why does keeping something I might wear someday feel safer than letting it go?
When did “I might need this someday” become a good enough reason to give something permanent real estate in my closet?
I’m starting to realize that owning a version of everything hasn’t cured my desire to shop.
In some ways, it has made it worse.
Because now I’m not shopping to fill holes in my wardrobe.
I’m shopping to upgrade things that didn’t exactly need replacing.
And the frustrating part is that sometimes the new version really is better. Or at least better to me right now. My style changes. Fashion changes. Proportions change. The plaid jacket I loved three years ago isn’t necessarily the plaid jacket I would choose today.
I don’t want to stop loving fashion. I don’t want to decide that because I already own a version of something, I’m never allowed to want a different one.
I just don’t know why I need to keep every version I’ve ever wanted.
I don’t know yet why getting rid of clothes makes me anxious.
I don’t know why having backups makes me feel safe.
And I don’t know why, when I already have more than enough, something new can still make me feel like I’m missing something.
But I’m starting to notice it.
So for now, I’m leaving some things in the cart.
And I’m standing in front of the closet I already have, asking myself a different question.
What am I holding onto—and why am I holding onto it?