In favour of the new year redux

Me: I have always had a quality-over-quantity mindset. Also me: I own 23 coats and jackets. My girlfriend tells me this isn’t normal. In my defence, having worked with so many amazing brands and designers, maybe my mantra is now more quality and quantity. Clothing accumulation is an occupational hazard when you’re a Personal Shopper.

I haven’t had any requests from clients for a complete wardrobe overhaul for a while, but for anyone wishing to kick off the new year with a big vibe shift, a key starting point would be to declutter. I find that a stock take gives you a clearer view of what you have and what might be worth moving on. Once you’ve done that, taking into account any change in lifestyle (or, inevitably, size), identify gaps that you need to fill. There’s always room for more, right?

I have never tried the KonMari Method, but I am completely on side with letting go of items that have been at the bottom of the drawer for so long that you’ve forgotten you have them. Keeping only pieces that “spark joy”, however, is a bit extreme for me. I always unearth the odd piece that I can’t bring myself to throw away.

A perfect example of this is an old Dries Van Noten suit that unfortunately no longer fits me, but that I just can’t let go. Last month, my girlfriend set her sights on it. A couple of measurements and bit of tailoring and we’d found ourselves shopping without a price tag. A win-win situation.

If you are inclined to get rid of anything, MR PORTER RESELL is a great option and will free up space for new items. After setting up an account, simply submit a few details on the pieces you would like to move on and the Reflaunt team will arrange to pick them up and take care of the headache of listing the products. When they sell, you can receive your payment as MR PORTER store credit.

This year, I want to smarten up my wardrobe. I haven’t started wearing my trusty tracksuit to the office yet, but I am definitely leaning into the casual side of smart-casual. If I add some tailoring, a selection of shirts, polos, T-shirts and lightweight knits, a few pairs of chinos and range of footwear, I will have a dozen smart-casual outfits for every occasion.

When clients ask, I tell them that the SS23 collections will bring bursts of colour, leather pieces, stripes in the summer and V-neck knitwear. My new wardrobe will not necessarily be trend driven, however. I shall look towards brands such as Rubinacci, Mr P. and Miles Leon to add timeless staples that I can work into my smarter wardrobe update. I am yet to replace my old leather jacket, so I will probably end the year with more, not fewer, items of outerwear. (Apologies in advance to my girlfriend.)

How a spark of joy burnt down her wardrobe

In 2014, a Japanese businesswoman named Ms Marie Kondo published the self-help book The Life-Changing Magic Of Tidying: A Simple, Effective Way To Banish Clutter Forever. Her method has become a cultural touchstone in the years since and “spark joy”, the book’s famous yardstick by which to measure whether something belongs in your life, is thrown around in daily conversation. Kondo even landed a Netflix series off the back of the book’s success.

I was enchanted by the concept of decluttering. I belong to a family of eclectics and maximalists. Every surface in my parents’ respective homes is covered with tchotchkes, photos and bits picked up on journeys around the world. Every wall is a gallery wall and every cupboard is packed – and I mean packed – with clothes and shoes from various decades. My mum has a 6ft-wide, glass-fronted cabinet filled with sweaters.

I embrace maximalism, too. I love colour, textiles and beautiful carpets, and I love being surrounded by art. However, when I was in my twenties and living in Brooklyn with a small closet and very little storage space, I figured that doing a little cleansing couldn’t hurt. My husband and I read Kondo’s book cover to cover and embarked on her room-by-room decluttering project. We hauled clothes from our closets, tossed them onto the bed and went through them piece by piece to decide what sparked joy and what could be thanked and relegated to the “donate” bags.

To be fair, it was an excellent exercise in understanding the corrosive and wasteful role fast fashion was playing in my life. It helped me decide that I did not want to fill my precious closet space with cheap trendy pieces and to be more discerning when shopping.

But I do have regrets. I have so many regrets. Kondo promised that I would not regret throwing things away, that if I hadn’t worn something for a year, it was unlikely that I would again. I was foolish to believe this. I still yearn for a pleated wool skirt I gave to The Salvation Army and I wonder about the wisdom of selling a Tory Burch dress that received compliments every time I wore it. And I, the daughter of low-level hoarders, should have known better because the best pieces in my closet belonged to my mother, who has saved various things for decades and periodically gives them to me.

Is the existence of the hand-me-down not a direct and convincing challenge to the concept of decluttering? I mean, sure, I’m all for discarding old Christmas cards and stained T-shirts. I definitely do not need sweatpants with deteriorating elastic waistbands, but I have donated or sold items that I should not have and I feel sadness and pain because of this.

I might not have a super-successful international career as a decluttering genius, but I have lived the process – and proselytised its benefits – and I’m here, like a newly deprogrammed cult survivor, to tell you that making space in your closet is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Consider the cyclical nature of fashion. If you’re investing in good pieces (and you should be), then even if you take a year or 10 off from wearing them, it’s all but guaranteed that you will wear them again, or your child will. Put that in your pipe and let it spark joy.