Every January, we look ahead to a new year, eyes wide with hope. We declare that this time, “things will be different”. We’ll get new opportunities, new experiences and, most importantly, a new version of ourselves. We tell ourselves that for this “new you” to stick around, we must surround ourselves with newness. That means new habits, new routines and, inevitably, an entirely new wardrobe. But the more often I hear this speech – and witness the cycle of wardrobes haphazardly emptying and filling up again – the more I wonder: what was so bad about the old you in the first place?

Psychology teaches us that reinvention isn’t about starting from zero because, quite frankly, that’s impossible. How can you skip ahead to a new you if you don’t have a clear picture of the old you first? Moving forward starts with looking backwards. And practising what I call “wardrobe ethnography” is the perfect way to start the search.

The concept of a wardrobe detox was itself given a makeover in the 2010s, when decluttering and organisation expert Marie Kondo encouraged us to let go of things that didn’t “spark joy”. Fast forward 15 years and the average number of clothes people own has skyrocketed to 150 pieces, even though they wear only 20 per cent of them. It’s perhaps unfair to say that the other 80 per cent is simply sparking sadness. Instead, I think two things are at play:

1. A dangerous obsession with novelty

2. We’re blind to the significance that our clothes carry

The main reason it’s so hard to hold on to our old clothes is that new things feel too good to resist. In one psychological study, researchers had participants look at a series of photos while measuring their brain activity. Then the researchers would randomly add a new image to the series, something utterly unrelated to the photos the participants had previously seen. The results revealed that the brain’s pleasure centres activated when participants saw the new image, resulting in a flood of the feel-good chemical dopamine.

This response is hardwired into us because, at one point, it was necessary to our survival. Exploring the new and unknown made humans increasingly capable of adapting to new surroundings and handling new challenges. Since we no longer have to hunt and gather to experience novelty, that rewarding feeling now happens whenever we click “add to basket” and see a package arrive at our doorsteps.

But new doesn’t always mean better. Novelty seeking is often the reason why you can’t see a project through to the end, or why you can’t stop yourself from doomscrolling, or why, instead of settling down, you keep swiping on dating apps because the grass always looks greener when it’s tinged with dopamine.

What many don’t realise is that an obsession with novelty is also to blame for why you fail to have a clear understanding of who you are. Not who you are on the surface, either, but you at your core. Fashion psychology reveals that those “old” clothes you’re so desperate to banish each year hold the key.

Wardrobe ethnography is the practice of understanding a person by investigating the contents of their wardrobe. As researcher Dr Saulo Cwerner says, “the wardrobe articulates, both spatially and temporally, a set of material and symbolic practices that are fundamental for the constitution of selfhood, identity, and well-being”. If that’s too meaty to digest, I often like to think of my wardrobe as a music playlist featuring the old-school bangers that take you back to a time when “life was good”, the new-school hits that make you feel alive, the cultural music that makes you feel at home and the alternative songs that speak to your unique tastes.

Similarly, every piece of clothing you gather over the years reveals something about your customs, habits, identities and feelings. Your wardrobe contains pieces that symbolise old versions of yourself and pieces that celebrate who you are today. Think of your clothes, then, like the soundtrack of your life.

Even the daily process of selecting clothing from your wardrobe says something about you. Specifically, how you attempt to control the presentation of your identity while maintaining your emotional, functional and aesthetic desires. By simply taking some time to study the contents of your wardrobe, you’ll be able to unearth important things about yourself and how you’ve changed over time.

So, rather than simply chucking out your clothes this new year, try these wardrobe ethnography tips instead:

For example, is your wardrobe 40 per cent going-out clothes when you hardly hit the town anymore? Does this speak to a new desire for you to wind down, or are you actually repressing a need to let loose?

If it’s more old than new, is this a sign that you have mastered your style or that you’re stuck in a rut? If it’s more new than old, have you discovered a new part of your identity or are you trying to style your way out of feeling lost?

The easiest way to discover which clothes you’re actually wearing is to return them to your wardrobe with the hangers facing a different direction. That way, you can discover what appeals to you most about these pieces.

Now, when you inevitably do buy new clothes – because even the most introspective person can’t help but peek at a good January sale – it won’t be for the new you, but rather the updated you. The deeply informed and newly inspired you.