Tools for Living
Monday musings on the connection between life and clothing.
I’m a bit scatter-brained as of late. I chalk it up to the buildup of wedding planning tasks that have slowly accumulated and suddenly need doing, but I also have a few more plates spinning than usual. Despite all this, I’m making less money than I have in a long time, and yet I’m actually, relatively, rather stress-free. The things I’m spending time on are mostly the things I want to spend time on. Even the hard stuff feels worthwhile, strangely gratifying, when there’s a goal in sight.
In terms of clothing, and what I’ve been wearing, and what I’ve learned from it (which is the point of this whole thing), well, I guess I’m leaning deeper into things I feel comfortable wearing, and thinking less about what others are doing or what I ought to be wearing or trying. As much as I love experimenting with different styles and silhouettes, I have so many clothes in my closet that things are being lost and forgotten and I feel neglectful towards my own wardrobe. I just don’t have enough days in the week to wear all the stuff I want to be wearing. A good part of that is due to me wearing a proper shirt and tie more often, which necessitates a good suit or at the very least a sportcoat. It’s something I wore all through the early 2010s #menswear era, and stranger still, in my infancy.
When I have days to myself, I tend to linger in pajamas and a good chunky knit, or even wear jeans and a jacket around the house (I get some confused questions for the latter, but I’m comfortable, so who cares?). It makes me think of my dad who used to starch and iron everything, even his jeans and t-shirts. Could be his naval training, but when I think of my late grandfather’s closet I imagine its something deeper and more hereditary. I also grew up in a WASPy enclave and idolized Mister Rogers, so there’s probably equal parts nature and nurture in how I dress and my reverence for everyday objects.
I want to devote more time to this newsletter, but my own understanding of my style and my relationship with clothing feels stuck in amber lately. Not in a bad way. If anything, it feels good to stop and rest in the shade of a confident point of view and understanding of my style. But as my own worst enemy, I fail to see the point in writing at length about anything I own or any outfits I’ve worn lately. I should probably suck it up and get on with it, but it’s hard to commit to any one thing right now. I suppose what I can commit to is that none of this is all that serious. If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that clothing is just a conduit, it’s a tool, the means but not the end. I’ve had such rewarding bonding moments with friends and family lately, that I sometimes wonder if my obsession with clothing (and making a career of it) may have overshadowed the real relationships and connections I already had. Not in any grandiose way, but it begs the question.
When I think about my wardrobe, the best pieces have the strongest personal connection, a real story behind them, and more than that, memories. When heritage brands capitalize on nostalgia, that’s what they’re really hoping to sell you; the idea that you can buy back the best moments of the past, real or imagined. I have a real problem with that, but I understand it’s essential for some people. As for me, as of now, all I want is tools for living.
Here are some highlights from the past month:
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