Remove From Cart: Things I didn't buy in search of a summer wardrobe
I share a peek into my process for evaluating purchases and building a wardrobe that works
Dear Reader,
On the first hot Saturday of the year, I changed outfits three separate times.
The first was too warm. I wore a light knit hoodie over a cotton dress and left Fort Greene Park with a sweat stain under my boob.
After a long walk to Prospect Park down Vanderbilt, the second chafed my thighs.
The third and final outfit—a cropped tank top and linen capris—was totally acceptable, although I wasn’t exactly excited to wear it.
By the end of the day, I could see my summer wardrobe clearly. (Mainly because it was in a pile on my bedroom floor.) And there was a gaping hole in my options: clothes I could just throw on and go.
Open knit tops and flouncy skirts? Take your pick! Jean shorts with tight thighs and halters that require special bras? You got it. But comfortable, casual, and stylish clothing?
I’m not about to spend the summer wasting time in front of my mirror, fighting with my wardrobe.
So on Sunday, I decided to shop.
My first attempt to fill this gap was a pair of terry cloth dolphin shorts. Cute, fun, stylish without being fussy. I could wear them with sneakers or sandals. I could wear them to the beach! I imagined myself in a brown pair, with a green bikini and a white linen button-down.
Surprisingly, a brown pair of terry cloth shorts, new or vintage, is hard to find. When I landed on this pair on Etsy, I felt I had hit the jackpot: they were well priced, in great condition, and marked Medium.
So why didn’t I buy them?
I wasn’t confident about the fit of the shorts, and the seller didn’t offer returns.
Every outfit I imagined would require me to buy more new items of clothing (a Doen-style blouse, for example)
Have you ever purchased shorts that are too small and spent a morning coffee run adjusting them? No thanks.
Sorry, shorts.
Next on my list: tank tops.
All my tank tops are black and blah. I have a form-fitting, high-neck tank top from Reformation with a rolled hem, a cropped Uniqlo tank top that’s becoming loose around the pits, and a vintage Harley Davidson tank that I think was made for children.
This summer, I want something sporty, comfortable, and any other color but Black. Of course, this blue and white striped tank top was an immediate hit in my Etsy favorites.
I loved the contrast of the thick navy trim and the minuscule stripes. The sizing seemed perfect - loose enough to throw on with a pair of shorts, but not too loose to be unflattering. I could wear this with almost everything in my wardrobe.
So why didn’t I buy it?
It’s $42, and the seller didn’t offer returns. That’s too much money to spend on a tank top I can’t try on.
The fabric composition is cotton and polyester, and I’m confused about how the polyester comes into play. The tank top looks 100% cotton, but I was nervous that the feel of the fabric would be way different than I had anticipated. (And again…$42 and no returns.)
I am okay with buying basic staples brand new, and other brands are making 100% cotton tank tops that I can try on and return if needed.
The tank top is still available on Etsy if you want to consider it yourself.
What about a cotton dress, the ultimate throw-on-and-go staple of a summer wardrobe? A few years ago, I purchased the Heavy Rib Mini Spaghetti Dress from Los Angeles Apparel and loved it (at first). The dress was well constructed, the weave was perfectly thick, and I knew I could wear it a million ways.
Except it was way too short, like barely covering my butt short. The thickness of the fabric also meant the skirt was stiff around my thighs. Nothing is worse than a dress you feel overexposed in. I sold it on Depop after a few wears.
This year, I contemplated repurchasing it in a larger size. But why give a brand-new item a second chance when I could look for a vintage piece instead?
I searched for a “vintage cotton tank dress” on Etsy and found this gem.
After a few days sitting in my cart…
I bought it!
Why?
I have a sweatshirt and a turtleneck in the same color that I wear all the time and love.
The dress is from Lands End, a brand I trust and frequently purchase second-hand.
The nautical belt detail is the perfect special and sporty touch.
$35 is a sweet spot for any piece of curated vintage.
Slightly oversized measurements felt worth taking a bet on - I’d rather have this be a little loose than a little tight. (Spoiler: it fits perfectly.)
A short reflection
How fun would it be to follow the delicious flow of my wardrobe dreams and Etsy rabbit holes? How gratifying would it be to snap up a whole new summer wardrobe at once? To fill my closet with soft terry cloth and sailor stripes?
Imagine all the packages arriving at my door! Imagine chosing from a closet of brand new items! Mornings would be easier. Park hangs would be more fun. I’d feel the abundance of an overflowing wardrobe, of endless choice. #blessed #wardrobegoals
Unfortunately, that’s all a consumerist spring fever dream. A vision of my life sourced from influencer hauls and back-to-school ads, not my 31 years of lived reality. Opening those packages is exciting. Wearing a new outfit head to toe is an unbeatable feeling. But mindless consumption usually leaves me with a smaller wallet and not a whole lot more to wear.
This summer, I want my clothes to be easy to throw on because I don’t want them to be the center of my experience. I want a pair of elastic waist band shorts that don’t hike up on a bike ride. I want a dress I can slip on over a bikini for lunch or dinner. And I want a tanktop that doesn’t team up with New York City humidity to ruin my life.
All while feeling like my best, stylish self—of course.
Is it possible? We’ll see.
What shopping “rules” do you have? What makes you hit “remove from cart”? Would love to hear other approaches.
I have a tendency to fall into shopping rabbit holes, then just buy things I stumble upon while browsing. Last year on two separate occasionsI bought jeans while waiting on the tarmac for my flight to takeoff. It’s like a mindless point and shoot of shopping. Reality is I need nothing. If I took it all out of my closet and laid it all out I could give half of it away, and would still have lots of good looks to wear.
In an effort to stop the madness I put myself on a $1200 budget for 2025 . that’s it for clothing, shoes, and accessories for the year . As of today I have $964 left to spend. I have showed some amazing restraint in my travels which feels great. Makes you rethink the word. “Need” when it comes to clothing. Everything really. Consuming kinda gets baked in and as outlined here the consequences go beyond my closet and my bank account
Love this! I’ve also recently started asking myself questions before shopping and it’s already helped me cut back buying things that ultimately aren’t right. My questions are:
1. Does this fill a gap in my wardrobe // do I have something similar already in my closet
2. Does it fit into my wardrobe? What would I wear it with//come up with an outfit idea
3. Is it actually what i’m looking for or is it just “good enough?”