My challenge: Can I give up buying new things?

I Love Clothes. If you hadn’t guessed that from the fact I write a blog about them, then I’ll say it again – I Love Clothes. I seem to collect them like some people collect stamps. I have miraculously managed to hold on to nearly every garment I’ve ever bought – from the topshop miniskirts my 16-year-old self saved up all the wages from her crappy waitressing job to buy, to the impractical, ill-fitting yet irresistible ebay wins my online auction addiction still forces me to purchase.

It seems to be quite a common female phenomenon – the few faithfuls you wear again and again, the wardrobe full of outfits you never touch but refuse to throw away, and still the aching feeling that you don’t have enough and you need something new. I have piles and piles of things which I don’t wear but keep hanging on to: “I’ll find a way to wear it again one day,” I always tell myself. But when I feel the familiar ‘Oh my god I have NOTHING to wear tonight!’ panic, I forget about all the clothes hanging in my room which I promise myself I’ll give another chance and head straight to the shops for a new dress. Then after its debut outing I hang it in my wardrobe and there it stays. And so the cycle goes on. And on and on and on.

But recently, instead of sitting prettily on my rails and brightening up my room, these useless piles of clothes have become the bane of my life. This is because I’ve been living out of a suitcase for two-and-a-half-months after splitting with my boyfriend. I am only working part time so can’t meet London rents, forcing me to sofa-surf in generous friends’ and relatives’ living rooms. This means hauling huge these piles of clothes from one place to the next, ensuring rather undignified struggles up tube station steps, aching arms and blistered hands (seriously). And I can’t even take it all with me – there’s still loads at my ex-boyfriend’s and loads more in my parents’ garage, prompting regular phone calls of ‘when are you going to collect all this stuff you’ve left here?’ and my subsequent plees to just look after it all and not throw any away. And as I leave one place and arrive at another, packing and unpacking all this stuff, the utter futility of this whole operation descends upon me as I realise I am hardly wearing any of. Twenty items max I wear on a regular basis, and the occasional special piece for a night out. The rest? It just sits there, causing me problems.

I have decided that I most definitely do not need any new stuff. In fact, I need less of it. It’s pointless – it serves no use other than just taking up space. Why do we have so many belongings which we just keep, just have hanging around the place, horded away under the bed and in drawers and cupboards and wardrobes, and never actually use? Why? What’s the point? We are clearly all insane.

And so, my solution is – I am going to stop buying new stuff. The only things I will buy brand new are food, toiletries and household essentials. Everything else, if I need it desperately, I will have to find second hand or make myself. Hopefully, eventually, I will clear my life of the useless clutter and only own things which I need.

So, here goes. Wish me luck…

New York Vintage Shopping

On my recent holiday in New York I discovered what is possiby the world’s greatest vintage shop.

The sad thing is, I didn’t stumble upon it until the last day of my trip. I’d heard so much about the treasure troves nestled away in the Big Apple that I was expecting to be knocked off my feet by a tidal wave of rare and beautiful vintage delights the second I touched down at JFK – and all within my weakened pound budget, of course.

Well, not quite so. What little vintage I could find on the island of Manhattan was eye-poppingly overpriced, falling apart at the seams and just, well, not that great. It soon became apparent that to enjoy SJP-style shopping you need an insatiable appitite for big designer brands and an uninterupted cashflow. And if you don’t? Well, I ended up spending half an afternoon in Topshop…

Fast-forward to the last day of my trip. I’m over the bridge in Williamsburg, Brookyn, meeting a friend from home who’s living here. She’s promised me great vintage shops. I’m not holding my breathe.

We walk along the main strip, cafes and bars bustling either side of us. It’s a Saturday and the road has been closed off to traffic, so the streets are full of life – bands setting up on corners, homemade stalls perched in the middle of the road, people just sitting out to bask in the July sun. We turn a corner, away from the tall red-brick Brooklyn buldings with their steeply-climbing staircases and shady rows of leaves. The street is a bit tattier, with less signs of life, and many homes that look like they need some love and attention. Then we draw up to a huge warehouse painted a dark shade of maroon, with two large glass doors, and stepped into the foyer.

And how good was it? Well, you know how normally have to rumage for ages in vintage stores to come across those diamonds? I’m not complaining about it – it’s half of the fun – but in Beacon’s Closet you will never have to do that. Every single thing in there is near-enough amazing. And there’s A LOT in there. The whole warehouse is filled to burst with rails and rails of spectacular garments, all organised by item type and colour. It was the biggest vintage shop I’ve ever been in, but also the easiest and least stressful to shop in.

What is their secret? How do they find all these things? I don’t know for definite, but I think it might be to do with the fact that they operate a swap-shop policy. Thanks to ebay, anyone with a decent wardrobe tends to get pound-signs in their eyes every time they have a clearout – none of it’s destined for the local charity shop anymore, it’s all going straight online. Beacon’s Closet have a heavily-publicised policy of buying or swapping clothes – either vintage or ‘ultra modern’ – from anyone who brings them in. And it’s made itself into a little Brooklyn institute in the process – a kind of community wardrobe where everyone’s clothes get passed around, always finding their back when their new owners tire of them.

Would it work in the UK? Definitely, although the downside would be charity shops suffering in the face of such strong competition. But I guess they already have ebay to deal with, and with the amount of stuff I’ve bought off that site which either doesn’t fit properly or turns out completely different to how it looks in the picture, I say – bring on Beacon’s Closet!