BOOK LAUNCH TOMORROW

It's finally here!

The product of several journals, a collection of sleepless nights, a sockful of baby naps, a frustration of footnotes, a great deal of anxiety and the odd meltdown or two...

My first published book, The Anti-consumerist Druid, officially launches tomorrow.

Click here to see more on the publisher's website.

I've also been popping up in various places around the Internet ahead of the launch - I had an interview with ev0ke magazine this month, which you can read here, and over here with Musing Mystical, to chat about the book.

Here are a few of my favourite comments from reviewers and readers so far:

 "From the start I was drawn in by Townsend’s friendly tone and nonjudgmental style. She showed her own failings and made it clear that it is normal to be drawn into the cycle of consumerism in our modern lives. Her story is probably at least a little familiar to most of us.

Her struggles are so relatable. Her honesty is refreshing.

The second part of the book about connecting with nature and magic was also something that resonated with me. One thing that really hit home for me was to create instead of consume. In an era where we seem to be expected to monetise our hobbies, Townsend talks about creativity as part of life not just as an identity or for profit.

The Anti-consumerist Druid is a book that reminds us to embrace creativity and mindfulness over consumerism. To simply do creative things and embrace the everyday joys that life has to offer.

Personally, I think this book has inspired me to be more mindful of what I consume and how it affects me and those around me. It has reminded me of the importance of real connection and to become the person we want instead of just trying to build a personality through consumption and social media." Laura Morrigan

 "Katrina Townsend's experience of navigating from a consumerist world into one that enters the realms of spirituality is beautifully expressed in this book. Her writing is open and honest, humorous and thought-provoking and takes you along the journey to where one can find peace in both the self and the world. It's an ongoing process, as she demonstrates so well in this book, of reviewing and reflecting upon one's habits and, for some, addiction, and being able to come out with a real sense of breaking the cycle of wanting more, through learning to love what you have. In this we find spirituality, expressed in this book through the tradition of Druidry and its love of nature which guides us to live our lives according to that love. I highly recommend this book to everyone, Druids and Pagans, and people of all faiths and none." Joanna van der Hoeven

"Katrina Townsend's journey from hedonistic consumerism to a deep communion with nature makes for a fascinating and compelling read. She writes with engaging honesty as well as humour, delving into the wisdom and magic of our Celtic past to find her own truth in the modern world. Her story will resonate with anyone who has found solace in walking England's green lanes, or glimpsed an older reality in the contours of hill and hedgerow." Jill Todd

 "Katrina Townsend has written a really important book that explores – based on her own experience – what consumer culture does to a person. She shares her experiences of compulsive shopping, social media addiction and the way all of this eroded her sense of self. Furthermore she does so without falling into the kind of judgemental puritanism you can find in the newly converted, and also avoids self pity or anything that seems self indulgent. It’s an impressive balancing act and makes the book exceedingly readable." Nimue Brown

Fifty-Three Ways to Rewild Your Mind

1. Read poetry, even if - especially if - you haven't read any for years

2. Ditch Amazon - go to your local library

3. Begin a meditation practice

4. Make a meal from local, seasonal goods

5. Cut down your social media time (I signed up for email newsletters from my favourite creatives so I don't miss the relevant stuff)

6. Have your first or last hot beverage of the day outside in the garden

7. Challenge your habitual consumption behaviours - for example, take a break from online shopping and visit local retailers instead, or try buying only second-hand for a while. Disrupt the consumption engine in your head

8. Make or mend something with your hands

9. Swim or paddle in wild water (obviously take all relevant safety precautions)

10. Spend an evening by candlelight

11. Make offerings to your ancestors

12. Consider celebrating, marking or acknowledging the solstices, equinoxes and fire festivals to create awareness of the cyclical nature of time

13. Rest

14. Tend a plant or garden

15. Forage for wild foods (this doesn't need to be more complicated than blackberries or apples)

16. Compost

17. Become aware of the phases of the moon

18. Spend time in starlight

19. Speak your truth

20. Make space in your life to appreciate art. Obviously this is very subjective, but some artists I love who to me express wild mind include Rima Staines, Iris Compiet, Jackie Morris, Hannah Willow, Brian Froud, Julia Jeffrey, Nadia Turner and Brett Manning.

21. Read widely and voraciously on anything that speaks to you

22. Again this is subjective, but some books that specifically evoke the feeling I wanted to achieve include Wild by Jay Griffiths, The Enchanted Life by Sharon Blackie, Rooted by Lyanda Lynn Haupt and The Way Home by Mark Boyle

23. Listen to live music

24. Dance

25. Consider your relationship to movement. What would you do if changing the appearance of your body wasn't a factor? I have a particular hatred of the sterile box that is the gym, so I admit to being biased, but I love to exercise in a way that makes me feel good, which for me includes yoga, walking, dance, the occasional run, swimming and paddleboarding when I am near the sea, and the odd game of badminton.

26. Check out the ingredients in your cosmetics. Consider a switch to cruelty free products. Better yet, natural, organic and cruelty free. Or even consider making your own - books like Wild Beauty by Jana Blankenship and Freedom Face by Lucy AitkenRead have an abundance of recipes

27. Buy only what you need

28. Learn the names of the animals, plants and birds in your immediate environment

29. Wander

30. If you have the opportunity, listen to stories being told out loud - this can be magical

31. Look at the world around you with fresh eyes. Slightly cheesily, I think of being a tourist everywhere I go, and look for historical buildings, unusual details, things that tell a story about the place. I have a particular fondness for old pubs, which are often the longest-lived buildings in an area and packed to the beams with ghost stories, and if this also includes sampling a local ale or cider, well, so be it. Often we go about with half our brain in 'the great digital nowhere', and this can be a way to bring ourselves back to physical reality

32. See what's on near you. Whilst I find that minimising my social media use as much as possible is the best thing for me, I can't deny it's really useful for finding out about workshops, markets, mending cafes, live music, Pagan gatherings, community gardens and all kinds of other interesting events that help me feel more rooted in and connected to my local area

33. One concept of Stoic philosophy that intrigues me is of not being addicted to anything. I can easily fall into habitual ruts (this whole blog started because of my shopping addiction), so I find it useful to regularly challenge those habits and make sure I am in control of them and not the other way round. Phone addiction is probably one of the most obvious, particularly for those of us who are rewilding, but this year I have gone without caffeine just to make sure that I could! Maybe consider having a look at your dependencies and shaking things up a little

34. I was surprised this year to discover how much I am held back by negative body image. I have found books like Beyond Beautiful, The Beauty Myth, Just Eat It and You Are Not A Before Picture really helpful in challenging this

35. Watch a sunrise or sunset

36. Let your bare feet touch the earth

37. Feel the sun, rain or wind on your bare skin

38. Let yourself change with the seasons. Be aware of yourself and your needs. In winter, when nature is sleeping and dormant, you may find that you, too, need to rest, and go within. Don't fight this urge. Capitalism and ideas about productivity and linear progress have made this very difficult, but do what you can. (This is a work in progress for me. I recently encountered ideas about living more cyclically through the work of Moss at Walk the Spiral Path, and I was surprised by how much of an emotional reaction I had to the concept)

39. Consider learning some of the skills your ancestors would have had - weaving, spinning, knitting, pottery, playing an instrument, for example. Ancestral crafts connect us to our history and our bodies as well as being beneficial to our mental health

40. Sketching, writing/journaling or painting are all ways to unwind without resorting to the endless scroll

41. Plant lore and herbalism teach us more ways to connect to the world around us. Although there is a vast amount of knowledge available here, don't be intimidated - you don't need to know everything about everything to brew a simple herbal tea (my simplest is this: I chuck a handful of lemon balm leaves into a mug, pour on hot water, and drink) or make an incense blend. 

42. Spend time with your friends and family (whatever family means to you). Sharing food by firelight is often wonderful

43. Stop mowing your lawn

44. Don't be afraid of the weather - just get a good coat

45. Go off-grid for a little while

46. Turn off phone notifications for email

47. If you can, spend a night outdoors

48. When you're outside, check in with all your senses (maybe not taste? But also maybe yes?)

49. Focus more on what makes you feel grounded, content, joyful, free or simply grateful. Living by your true priorities and values, not those of the dominant culture, is not easy, but it is importantvalues

50. Spend time alone

51. Challenge your comfort zone. So much of our money, time and energy is poured into our comfort and convenience. We are, in a sense, domesticated. How will we cope with the societal changes ahead in this era of climate change? (Many more of us in the UK will be experiencing cold and darkness this winter. Having these changes foisted upon us as the result of inept governing is, of course, terrible.) Finding ways to increase our strength and resilience could turn out to be beneficial in the long run. Common suggestions include cold water exposure, spending time in wild places or without electric light, breathwork practices such as the Wim Hof method, building relationships and communities, and learning how to grow, preserve and forage for food

52. Find a sit-spot that you can visit at least once a week

53. Care for and nourish your body, whatever that looks like for you

The Rarr

You might think I'd be used to getting my ass handed to me by oracle cards by now, but sometimes the accuracy of the insight revealed by a picture on a bit of cardboard still blows me away.

I pulled a card from my Faerie Oracle deck one morning when I was freaking out about style - again. I asked the cards, essentially, who I should try to be, but the card I pulled was the Rarr, reversed - a somewhat ominous warning that my energy was out of control, I was all over the place, distracted, I should make no decisions but take a cold shower, meditate, and try to ground myself.

I was slightly alarmed by this, and gave myself a quick three-card reading, which basically said 1) you need to reground yourself; 2) you need to reconnect with nature; 3) you need to slow down and stop trying to push the river.

Surprisingly (to me, perhaps not to you?), one of the most helpful practices for staying happy and motivated during my current no-buy was renewing my study of Druidry. My books are now peppered with post-its, I developed a strong daily routine that includes time outside and tending my altar before my yoga practice each morning, and I feel grounded, calmer and more contented. Seeing my everyday activities as sacred really has an effect on the energy that I am able to bring to them. Not that I'm never Shouty Mum any more, but definitely not as much. 

At this moment I have decided not to sign up to one of the two 'big Druid' correspondence courses in the UK, which are offered by the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids and the British Druid Order respectively. I'm aware that both are highly regarded and I have sent off for samples from both, but found myself reluctant to proceed. Partly because a lot of the basic material is already known to me from fifteen-ish years knocking around the Pagan community and studying folklore (and assorted New Age practices, many of which don't resonate with me - the OBOD course in particular I have seen described as New Age), partly because I'm not a joiner by nature, and partly because I'm not a huge fan of scripted ritual or male/female binaries. Yet I feel very connected with and drawn to Druidry, I just feel that as such I need to approach it in a way that makes the most sense for me. 

So I have a massive stack of books from different authors with different 'takes' on Druidry, and I'm also considering a course or two from Sharon Blackie, which aren't specifically Druidic but offer a deep dive into concepts such as the anima mundi and the mythopoetic worldview, which I feel would be useful. (I also attended Moss's excellent Re-enchantment is Resistance workshop back in the summer, and loved it.) So I've ended up with a sort of hodge-podge ramshackle hedge Druidry, and I imagine that there are people who may object to me using the word 'Druid' because of that, but I cannot overstate the value this way of relating to the world brings to my life.

For a few months this year I'd drifted away from studying Druidry. I always seemed to have other things to be doing - laundry, dishes, mucking about on my tablet. But after renewing my nature connection in Pembrokeshire, it seemed totally natural to return to it. Not only did it add fresh motivation and enjoyment to the practice of my no-buy, but it felt like a step I needed to ground that frantic, out-of-control Rarr energy.

I also recently re-read some of my own work, including my own book and this blog. I was startled and disappointed to notice how easily I'd slipped out of some good habits and into some bad ones. I actually had my shit much more together and felt overall more content when I was working much harder on my no-buy challenge. I think I knew that, deep down, and I think that's why I keep coming back to the idea of a no-buy year even when common sense should be telling me to give up. I've tried, in my book, to express the sense of freedom and deep joy I began to discover when I reoriented my life around not shopping, but even so, I've increasingly drifted away from it in the years since.

I think I need to take my own advice once again, go back to the beginning, and re-root myself into the practices that led me here. It isn't easy, but it is so beneficial to me.

The 'Mrs Baggins' Style Challenge

As you'll know from last week's post, I was beginning to think of style as a kind of scam to encourage us to feel dissatisfied with our selves and our clothes. You might think that this feeling would lead to a sense of liberation, but instead I found myself a little despondent: "You mean, this is it? Get used to feeling slightly uncomfortable in my skin, all the time, forever? I never get to changing-room-movie-montage my way out of this?" 

Then, in a rather timely manner I received a newsletter from Jill Chivers at Shop Your Wardrobe which contained a link to this post, which contains references to lots of studies about how the way we dress can affect our mood, confidence and self-image. I couldn't help but think back to how I'd felt all day in my jeans, which were just slightly too short to look right with my shoes. I'd wanted to work on accepting myself, but was I just stifling myself instead? Why didn't I just change the damn shoes?

This has been a year of many challenges, from several months of no-buy to a big rewilding plan, walking across hot coals and wearing everything in my 100+ item wardrobe. So I started to think, perhaps it was time to set myself some more.

I recently came across a piece of wisdom that suggests we give ourselves three years to work towards a chosen goal. At the end of that time, we have either succeeded, made progress, or perhaps learned that it's time to peacefully let go. But I've been working on this no-buy for three years, and to be honest I didn't fancy spending another three obsessing over the contents of my wardrobe.

So I decided, okay. Three months. For three months, I would lean into this whole style thing. I would do my best to learn whatever lessons it had to teach. I would shop my wardrobe. I would not leave the house in an outfit I did not like. I would take copious notes on how I felt and how it affected me. However, I would not shop. I would either make outfits with my own clothes or borrow from friends. Adding new clothes seemed like a thing that would only compound my state of identity crisis and confusion. 

At first I thought I should get some style guides and try to enact their advice, perhaps challenge myself with a different book for each month, but then I wondered if maybe I was looking at the whole thing wrong. The point wasn't to become stylish, it was to find my style. I feel fairly certain that my style is not to be found in someone else's list of essential basics or defined by which fruit or vegetable I most resemble. So I decided to start really, really simple, by just putting together outfits that I actually like when I get dressed in the mornings.

I know, right, it's hardly revolutionary. Usually when we are encouraged to discover our style, the suggestion is that style is 'out there somewhere', possibly still hanging on the rail in H&M, waiting for us to go and catch it in our fashion-y net. This is the kind of talk that makes me wary, makes me start thinking fashion is a con game. Comparatively, consider the wisdom of Leena Norms: 

 "When it comes to showing who you are through your clothes, I think that isn't a misguided idea, but if clothes are supposed to speak about who we are, surely where they came from is as important as, like... what colour they are. How frequently I buy them is as important as how 'me' they are, whatever that means. I also think that re-wearing clothes makes them more you. Like, you really settle in to your style when you re-wear stuff you really, really love, and people start knowing you for that. So rather than always having to reinvent the wheel and walk into New Look and be like 'Right, I've got to find an item that's 'me',' the secret might actually be already be at home in your wardrobe into looking like yourself."

I'd already learned from wearing my wardrobe that I have those things because I like them. So it's kind of ironic that I end up feeling bad when I wear them. Especially when I quite possibly have the power to... not.

Do you know what made me think twice about buying a bunch of style guides to slavishly follow their advice? (I recently flicked through one that suggested leather leggings are a must-have wardrobe staple... all I will say is, to each their own, but I cannot express how much I do not wish to wear a pair of leather leggings in this lifetime.) I was scrolling on Pinterest, because although I know it's a total waste of time it sometimes feels like I'm doing something productive and if I can just find the right image it will magically solve all my fashion conundrums forever, and I found myself looking at a picture of Emma Orbach.

I deeply admire Emma Orbach. She lives in a self-built hobbit house on the slopes of a mountain in Pembrokeshire, off the grid, where she lives off the land, tends horses and plays the harp. And has done, without running water or electricity, for over twenty years.

In this photograph, Emma Orbach was wearing a crystal pendant necklace and a stripy v-neck jumper. And I thought, for heaven's sake, this woman lives in a mud hut in the middle of nowhere, presumably without a mirror, milking goats and communing with her spirit guides, she obviously knows there are WAY more important things than her appearance, and she can still be bothered to put on a nice necklace that she likes. So why the hell can't I?

I wanted to wear my equivalent of Emma Orbach's necklace. Nice things, that I like, in a combination that I enjoy. 

So I'm calling it The Mrs Baggins Style Challenge. I give myself three months to see if a little bit of style really can change my life, or even just my mood. I'll keep you posted.

This week, this blog is also two years old! Does it feel like two years to you?!

Lessons From A Style Icon... Me, Aged Nine

I originally intended this post to be a light-hearted and humorous look at my childhood fashion sense, but when I broke out my mum's photo albums to get some ideas, I was surprised to find that to the eyes of my adult self, I wasn't the style disaster I seemed to remember. With one or two exceptions, notably when I started to approach my teen years and started to seek out weird items for the sake of weirdness itself, I actually really liked the items my younger self chose and the way I put them together.

I started to think, perhaps the problem isn't my tendency to drift towards the quirky and eclectic, but simply the fact that I haven't allowed that inner style to grow and mature. I seem to think the options are 'dress exactly as I would have dressed circa age ten' or 'morph into someone else'. I wondered, would it not be possible to take such style staples as tie dye dungarees, paisley harem pants and bags made of rainbow fun fur, and use them to create a look that is just a little more polished... but still, essentially, me? I've been trying to make myself stay the same as I would have at eighteen (or even eight), but eight-year-old me would have relished the opportunities I have as a grown woman to expand my repertoire, style different things in different ways, be elegant or glamorous. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to stagnate out of fear and self-consciousness. I feel like it's time for me to accept my true tastes on the one hand, but also to let myself grow and appreciate the stage of life I'm in.

My childhood outfits and individual item choices were not nearly as bad as I had thought. The problems, such as they were, only came when my criteria changed from a simple 'I like this', to 'this is really weird, I'd better get it'. This is similar to something I find myself doing now when I worry about whether my look is still recognizably 'alternative'. So the lesson for me here is to let these kinds of distinctions go, and to recentre the simple question, 'how much do I really like it?'. 

One thing I really miss from my childhood outfits was that I didn't ever feel like I often do now, as though there's a right and a wrong way to put together an outfit. Sometimes I find this feeling so paralyzing that instead I don't bother and just sling on whatever's clean. It's not so much a feeling that other people will judge me, but that I can never quite reach an image in my head, so that however hard I try, I can still catch a glimpse of myself in a shop window and feel gut-punched - all that time on hair, make-up and styling and I still don't like the way I look. Why make the effort, if I'm going to feel rubbish anyway? 

Yet as a younger person, I always enjoyed the outfits I put together and felt like a badass in them. So why had I developed this negative perception of my own style and stopped trusting my own judgement on clothes? I can't say for sure, but I do remember that secondary school was a bit of a shock to the system. Before that I had muddled along happily enough in a village primary that wasn't really big enough to have an 'in crowd' and an 'out crowd'. My taste was already verging on the wacky - I do remember turning up to a school fete, aged nine or ten, with crimped hair, silver-blue lipstick, gold moon and star earrings, hiking boots, and a black faux leather high-collared mini dress with a chunky zip down the front. I don't remember anyone commenting, either, which tells me I might already have had a reputation for somewhat theatrical outfit choices. I love the confidence I had back then. I thought I looked cool in what I was wearing so I just assumed that everyone else did too.

Secondary school was very different. It turned out that the popular kids didn't much like my look, and whenever I made choices that I thought would impress them, I ended up making it worse. I got this electric blue pleather jacket that I thought was absolutely the bee's knees - it got worn once, as I was laughed out of the cafeteria. So I plumped for the total opposite - a cream corduroy trench - and got picked on for that instead. My hair cuts were even worse. In the early 2000s, I was taking my inspiration from the media I loved, so one summer holiday I opted for the hairstyle Mary Stuart Masterson had in the film Some Kind of Wonderful. I guess my peer group weren't enjoying 80s teen romances during their holidays, as the reaction when we went back to school was... not good. Even some of my friends would ring me up and let me know I'd been seen on the weekend "wearing black tights with a tweed miniskirt and white running shoes - what were you thinking?!" or, in a dubious voice, "my mum said you were dressed... sort of funky." I ended up feeling that I couldn't get it right. It never occurred to me to just do what everyone else was doing - I think I'm actually grateful for that character trait.

But even if I had been the worst-dressed child in the history of the planet Earth, why did I feel that that affected my ability to dress myself as an adult? Loads of us have some regrettable style choices in our pasts and dodgy photos in our family albums. Children aren't supposed to be miniature style icons, after all - they're supposed to be kids, snot-nosed, grubby, and covered in mud. But speaking personally, I chose my own clothes from a very young age. My mum often reiterates that I wasn't interested in fashion as a child, but that's not quite the full story. I wasn't interested in how other people saw me, but very early on, I really loved clothes. I fell in love with fabrics and prints, I pored over catalogues, I loved raking through the aisles at Tammy Girl. I wrote detailed outfit ideas and packing lists in my diaries. It never occurred to me that clothes expressed something about me to other people - I just knew that they made me happy.

I get a similar feeling looking through these old photos as I do from street style sites with a certain aesthetic, like Hel Looks and NYC Looks. I don't necessarily like all the looks, although some are very inspiring to me, but I feel like they have the same vibrancy and playfulness. I also love reading the little snippets about what inspired each style or outfit, and I get lots of ideas for new ways to layer and put together outfits with what I already own.

Sometimes lately I've been convinced that a makeover, or a final, curated iteration of 'my personal style', will make me happier and more confident. But I've also noticed that everyone claiming that the right clothes will change my life is also selling a book, or a course, or a series of personal styling Zoom sessions, etc, etc. I remain unconvinced by any style guide that breaks women into categories (Timeless Classic! Eccentric Vintage! Androgyne!) or provides a one-size-fits-all list of things everyone's wardrobe should have.

The "life-changing makeover/style is important because it controls how other people see you" narrative is very alluring - much like a diet. I want to believe that my most contented, ideal self is only a personal styling session away. But honestly? I'm starting to think it might be bullshit. This makeover narrative fuels everything from personal shoppers' careers to reality TV, and seems to bring women so much joy and confidence, and yet I'm starting to wonder if the whole concept is a con, a scam designed to make the already-insecure feel dissatisfied with what we have. I've changed my whole appearance a lot of times, and still felt not pretty enough, not cool enough, not enough in general. I'm beginning to doubt that 'becoming stylish' will make me any happier. I don't always feel great in my clothes, but maybe I need to try changing the feelings, not the wardrobe.

I Wore Every Single Item In My Wardrobe

In the manner of quintessential mad scientists throughout time, I decided to run an experiment on myself (and my clothes) to see if I could settle the ongoing wardrobe conundrum that I identified in my last post. The premise was simple: I set out to wear every single piece of clothing and accessory that I own.

I know I was recently thinking about adding some more styles and silhouettes to my wardrobe, but it occurred to me that this perhaps wouldn't be the best plan while I was still overwhelmed and finding it difficult to identify what I do and don't like. I could easily end up fielding total chaos, and I didn't want that. So first I decided to try to get clear on what I do and don't feel good in - but not by intellectualising it or thinking my way through it, because I've already learned that that doesn't work. I couldn't decide just by thinking about it whether I feel happier wearing more quirky, unconventional outfits or simple, refined ones - or something in between - but I realised that I could start to find out simply by using what I already had and just paying attention. Do I feel embarrassed and unattractive or cheerful and empowered in bright layers? Do I feel invisible and staid or sexy and elegant in plain black? Time to find out.

I'd noticed over the course of this year that whilst I often think I'm wearing all my clothes, there are items I do actually avoid, often because of a vague feeling of discomfort that I've chosen to ignore instead of take notice of, or because my body doesn't get on with the garment (like shorts that are just so pretty, but which also ride up between my thighs and have to be pulled inelegantly out of my crotch every two minutes). So to try to help myself stop avoiding and ignoring these feelings, I started using this wardrobe inventory spreadsheet from Christina Mychas. I just took a moment each morning after getting dressed to note down the items I had put on. I also started noting in my journal each evening how I had felt throughout the day.

I felt a bit worried starting this experiment because I had a feeling that I didn't actually like the way I felt in a lot of my clothes. I was also concerned that I might mistake temporary boredom with an item for genuine discomfort or dislike, so I decided to only commit to wearing the items at first, not making any final decisions about them. That was a bridge I'd cross when I came to it.

So what did I learn from challenging myself to wear my stuff?

First, I learned to pay attention more to the most subtle of feelings. Sure, the T-shirt and leggings I'm wearing right now are cute, but I can feel that I don't want to go and run my errands later wearing this, I'd rather change into something a little smarter. Previously I would have ignored the tiny deep-down feeling of reluctance and just gone about my day feeling a little bit less-than.

I also learned that having some things I don't wear often is... not a bad thing. Classic minimalist logic would dictate that I should get rid of things I wear less than once a year, but I have some beautiful medieval dresses that I only wear very occasionally... But I love them! They make me so happy! I started to think it would be a joyless wardrobe (life) without the occasional frivolous thing, even if it wasn't practical for regular use.

Encouragingly, filling in the inventory spreadsheet allowed me to see changing trends in my purchasing behaviours. Items purchased before 2020 were more likely to be bought new, and for reasons such as 'just liked it'. Items purchased in 2022 were almost all secondhand, and the reasons were more likely to be 'replacement', 'versatile', 'basic' or 'needed for a trip' (the latter being a ski jacket I got off Vinted to keep me warm and dry on our Shetland sojourn). 

I found that I could style 99% of the things I had in multiple ways, even the 'maybe' items and many things I had mentally earmarked as unwearable. The exceptions were the items that simply did not fit or which caused physical discomfort in some way, and eventually I ordered a Re-Fashion bag to deal with those.

A couple of weeks in, I noticed that I was feeling differently about my wardrobe. The itch to buy this or that 'one more item' to 'pull everything together' had completely faded as I was coming to appreciate the sheer vastness of what I already had. I was also coming to understand just how much money, labour and resources had gone into the making of this hugely abundant selection of clothes. This made me want to keep wearing them for longer, instead of putting myself through some intensive makeover experience to end up with an entirely different set of clothes, which was the idea that had been niggling in the back of my mind for quite some time beforehand. I mean, I knew I had a lot, but actually making myself wear all the things helped me to experience that on a physical, visceral level. I have ENOUGH.

However, I also noticed that I had lots and lots of the same kind of thing. My biggest vice, apparently, was still T-shirts with printed designs, dozens of black ones in particular, mostly purchased for the simple reason 'I just liked it'. Whilst they are all wearable and I still like them, I have made a mental note that when they start to wear out I will replace a good half of them with different items - long-sleeved tops that I can layer with, tank tops for the hot weather we are seeing more regularly in the UK, maybe even some T-shirts that are not black (wild, I know). I've been pulled towards uniform dressing, and I do appreciate the simplicity of the tee-and-jeans combo, but after several weeks cycling through my many semi-identical tops, I was, frankly, a bit bored, and eager to mix things up a little bit. And not by buying another T-shirt, which I suspect is the strategy I was previously applying, hence why I have so many.

Did I manage to answer the question - simple or chaotic? Well, yes and no. I must admit that I don't think I'm ready for a uniform just yet. I found that I really enjoyed layering things in unusual ways and being creative. My emphasis remains on comfort and practicality, but I found a lot of enjoyment and - yes - empowerment in adding distinctive touches and flourishes. So I remain betwixt and between, but happily I no longer feel as though I'm being pulled in different directions, because I understand what works for me right now.

I also felt, for the first time in a long time, a strong connection to my younger self and my authentic style. At last I am beginning to choose to pay attention to my unique aesthetic impulses and preferences, rather than assuming that other people know more about style and taste than I do, at least as it applies to myself. 

This was a really worthwhile experiment, and I'm glad I made the effort to plumb the depths of my cupboard and those lurking 'maybe' boxes. Some of those items made the best outfits, by the way.

Inspiration:

Closet Beliefs that are Limiting Your Personal Style

My Ever-Evolving Relationship With My Clothes

6 Bad Style Habits You Need To Break ASAP

Fictional Fashion Icons vs. Uniform Dressing

I've been feeling baffled and frustrated that my style is not easily defined, neatly curated, nor particularly, um, stylish. But when I tried to make a list of my style inspirations from all the way back in primary school to nowadays, as prompted by some style questionnaire I was looking at, it suddenly became clear to me exactly why I may never have a single clothing rack of smart neutral basics, as much as I may appreciate how much a simple uniform would streamline my days.

You see, my list of fashion icons and inspirations, roughly chronologically, looks a little like this:

- Claudia Kishi

- Stargirl

- Tibby Tomko-Rollins

- Alex from T*Witches

- Mia Thermopolis (books NOT movies! Actually that goes for all of the above...)

- Willow Rosenberg

- Emilie Autumn

- Tank Girl

- Luna Lovegood

- Drew Barrymore in the 90s

- The entire cast of Whip It

- Karou (Daughter of Smoke and Bone)

- Mab Graves

- Amanda Palmer

- Patti Smith

- Keira Knightley

- Helena Bonham Carter

I don't doubt there's a few I've forgotten here, but that's about the shape of it I think. In fact, I know there were others, and it's going to seriously frustrate me that I can't remember them all. Not sure how I never put this together before, but the styles I have generally admired aren't exactly tidy and sleek. I appreciate fun and joy and chaos and imperfection.

I miss 90s celebrity style, where people actually looked like they chose their own clothes and maybe made mistakes but enjoyed the process, when teenagers weren't impeccably groomed and glamorous, when it didn't seem so much like there was a right and a wrong way to get dressed. The media probably still ripped them to shreds just the same, I guess, but it felt all a bit more relaxed to me. And yes, I realise that 90s styles are in right now, but to my mind it's somehow not quite the same... It's a bit more overstyled, deliberate, ironic. Or maybe that's just my age and cynicism showing.

Can I also say that as a youngster I loved The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants and Stargirl so, so much that I never read the sequels because I needed the characters to be perfectly preserved in my head and heart exactly as they were... Might have to get down to the library and have myself a good old binge read of those as well as many of these old favourites. (You're talking to someone who nearly exploded with joy when Carolyn Mackler wrote a sequel to The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things over a decade later. Someone who is now writhing in horror because I just came across a Travelling Pants spoiler whilst trying to find a Tibby-description to link to in this post. Drat and double drat!!!)

Is it normal to have fictional fashion inspirations? I'm not sure. It's not necessarily all that helpful, though - fictional characters are static, their tastes and opinions are not real and therefore not subject to influence by their surroundings, they don't have to interact with the real world or worry about shopping, fit, storage or clothing care and maintenance. It doesn't hurt to have a paragraph in a novel inspire an outfit - but in the past I've tried to use it as a basis for a lifestyle. Maybe this works for some people, but historically it hasn't for me.

Another issue I have is that nowadays I find myself drawn almost equally to the exact opposite of these whimsical styles, as I alluded to at the start of this post. I'm intrigued by the idea of 'uniform dressing' and by the super-simplicity of pared-down capsule wardrobes. Sometimes I feel pulled in opposite directions by these two aesthetics, which are by their very nature the complete opposite of each other. (I know you can create a capsule wardrobe from bright and quirky items, but the aesthetic that appeals to me for this look is very simple and clean - lots of linen, denim, black and beige.)

The drawbacks of whimsical chaos are that it requires me to make a lot of micro-decisions every day; I often have a tendency to misinterpret unspoken dress codes and feel over- or under-dressed; because some items or looks are very statement or simply loud I receive a lot (a LOT) of unwanted opinions and feedback on my outfits; when out and about I can tend towards self-consciousness or feeling uncomfortable; it encourages overshopping because it tends towards a maximalist aesthetic; outfits may have components which are less comfortable or require a lot of managing; I don't feel as grown-up, attractive or elegant as I would like or sometimes as though I'm stuck in my most awkward childhood and teenage years, so it doesn't do a lot for my self-confidence. I also find myself not really having an honest answer to questions like, "Do I still actually want to dress like this or is it just what I've always done? Do I actually like these clothes or do I like being recognised as 'the quirky one'?"

The drawbacks of a streamlined uniform are that I can feel constricted or bored very easily; that it is harder to be creative or playful; I feel oddly as though I am betraying my past self; it is harder to find and choose wardrobe items and I can end up either overspending on individual items or not being able to source what I think is the right thing, and feeling paralysed or stuck - I feel that if you have a limited selection of items they need to be perfect and this can be really quite difficult, particularly as my weight fluctuates. My trip to Brighton also showed that despite my best attempts to follow or devise formulas and make well-thought-out purchasing decisions, I don't always understand myself well enough to get it right, which feels more high-stakes with a fifty-item wardrobe where any errors in judgement make the whole thing less manageable and can't be blended in like they can in a larger, more eclectic wardrobe. Also, perhaps this is just a personal quirk, but having a stripped-back aesthetic can put more focus on face and body (e.g. feeling like I need to make more effort with make-up to avoid looking unfeminine or boring) which can feel intimidating and not all that helpful. I also find myself worrying more about whether I appear stylish to other people.

Perhaps there is no right answer. I recently had my bra-strap-length hair cut into a chin-length bob, and whilst objectively I think that length is a touch more flattering on me I was surprised it doesn't actually make a huge difference to how I look or how I feel. I had been anxious about cutting my hair and really attached to the idea of having long hair, but I find I don't miss it or even particularly think about it. This was disappointing at first, but then it became quite liberating, because it meant I didn't have to obsess about my hair or attach part of my identity to my hairstyle. I can change it up whenever I feel like I want a refresh. More to the point, I realised that there really is not an objectively perfect hairstyle for me 'out there' somewhere that I am failing to find. If only I could figure out how to apply the same logic to clothes!

Is there a way I can create a wardrobe that is playful and wild but also simple and effortless? 

Also, some more bits and bobs - firstly, an article of mine in the October issue of ev0ke Pagan and lifestyle magazine is available to read online here.

Secondly, a five-star review for my upcoming book from blogger Stefanie at Owl's Rainbow - you can read here.