Chloe Moss, 22, is a fashion blogger and freelance writer who graduated with an English Literature degree from King’s College London in July. In her fourth ‘Funemployed’ column she examines how having more clothes than you know what to do with isn’t actually the greatest #lifegoal.
I’ve spent the last few days moving bedrooms at home because, in the absence of my sister/flatmate, I am obviously taking the bigger room. I’m no fool. This move, despite the rooms being side by side, is taking a painfully long time, and that is because I am a disgusting hoarder. The time that it is taking me to transport my stuff between rooms is giving me time to really consider my life choices through the medium of examining my sartorial choices, because, for me, the two are inextricably linked.
It’s no secret that I have a shopping problem, which, combined with poor impulse control, has made for an incredibly large wardrobe. And that’s not me making a bold, proud claim – it’s actually quite shameful. I own, and this is no exaggeration, eight grey t-shirts. All but two of these t-shirts are V-neck, and the vast majority are simple, short-sleeved numbers. Who in the world needs eight grey t-shirts? Apparently me. And that’s before we even get onto the black V-neck situation. The lesson from this is that once I like something, I like a lot of it. You may notice that this also applies to my approach to alcohol. Bleak.
The other truth that my wardrobe has taught me, and this is to do with the aforementioned impulse control, is the startling truth that I really, really need to try things on before I buy. I operate on what I call a “high risk, high reward” shopping system. This means taking risks, and, more often than not, not stopping to try something on before purchasing it. Case and point: a baby pink, PVC, full maxi skirt from H&M. There are multiple issues with this item. One: I don’t suit full skirt shapes because they make me look like I have childbearing hips in a weird way, and I’m not trying to give off baby-making vibes at this point in life. Two: It is PVC, and could probably operate as a shower curtain. PVC is not the most wearable at the best of times, let alone in a skirt shape that makes you look like you’re trying to attract Henry VIII by emphasising your possibly very promising cervix. Three: Seriously, PVC and BABY PINK and FULL OF SHAPE.
Ditto for the vintage blouse with different species of fish on it and their proper names, which I purchased because it was “educational and funny”. Buying clothing because it makes you laugh is not, may I advise, a solid shopping rule. And whilst I think clothes can be educational, I don’t think they need to be in such a literal sense.
Note: At this point of writing, I went to Topshop for a ‘browse break’. I am a monster.
It would seem that over the years I have picked up some terrible habits when it comes to cultivating my wardrobe, with the recurrent theme being a distinctly laissez-faire attitude to actually making sure something suits me. Ultimately, upon examining my wardrobe hits and misses, I truly thought that the majority of my high risks, low rewards had been left in my youth, when I took to wearing a baby pink vest with HOTTIE emblazoned on it. In diamanté. Worn with purple fake leather trousers. And matching jacket. As it goes, I still have a lot of work to do on the high-risk, high-reward mantra, although I do still harbour that love for fake leather.