No one notices what you wear: Results of my Six Item Wardrobe Diet

After wearing the same six items of clothing for 30 days, I have learned a few things:

1. Truly, no one cares what you wear. No one notices. The only folks who remarked on my clothes either (A) knew nothing about the project but complimented me on looking especially stylish and sharp or (B) had read my first post and knew the experiment was past, and wondered how it went.

2. It is much easier to get dressed in the morning when one has fewer choices. Normally, I put on and take off at least one outfit each morning, trying to figure out what to wear, before settling on an outfit; often I go through several outfits at a time. During the 30 day experiment I think I swapped my top in the morning four times total.

3. Having multiples of an item — four black tank tops, for example — makes a world of difference. I was able to do laundry just once a week, which helped a lot, particularly given the heat of August and my tendency to sweat. On this, I bent the “rules” a bit. I had just one black tank top at the start of the project, and one white t-shirt. About a week in, I went shopping and picked up three more black tanks and one more white t, and all of them were better designed and more flexible than my original items (looser fit for the t-shirt, wider straps for the tanks to better cover bra straps). This made it much easier for me to feel confident wearing them, and I credit this with part of my surviving the month. So, having great-fitting and well-made items is important, and having enough that you don’t have to wash your clothes every night helps.

4. I used to wear scarves and belts a lot, particularly in the 90s when I wore suits and my wardrobe was more “corporate” looking. Those accessories made my outfits more varied. It wasn’t critical to me, but it was sort of nice. For someone who has a more public life, like TODAY’s financial editor Jean Chatzky who did the same experiment during much the same period I did, it might make a bigger difference. Here are her notes about the project, plus the segment TODAY broadcast on Thursday about her experience.

Video segment on TODAY about “sixperiment” wardrobe diet

5. Choosing the right items for the project is key. Two days in, I realized I’d made a strategic error in choosing linen-type pants during a particularly sweltering August. I would have to wash the pants every time I wore them. I opted to cheat take a mulligan and swap the khaki pants out of the project in favor of a pair of wide-leg black knit pants. These turned out to be a fantastic and flexible choice, one that I could dress up or down easily, yet never looked wrinkled or sloppy. (They did look linty and attract cat hair, but I think that’s mostly because of how I am.) So, as with the t-shirts and tanks, selecting clothes that are flexible and that one feels terrific in makes this project work.

6. Wearing the same colors all the time was more of a challenge for me than wearing the same items. In fact, the day after I completed the project, I wore a plum-color t-shirt and the khaki pants I abandoned after day 3 — in other words, i kind of kept going with just a change of color. (I thought of it as kind of a penalty day, penance for my day two swap.) Then, in the past week, when i could choose anything from my wardrobe again, I’ve defaulted to the black pants and black skirt several times. And this weekend, when I’m traveling to attend a friend’s wedding, I wore the black pants AGAIN, brought the brown capris (which I bet I won’t wear), and packed t-shirts and tank tops, one of them even in black. The major  additions to my project wardrobe for this trip have been a cocktail dress for the wedding and two jackets, one dressy for the wedding and one more casual — and frankly, I could have gotten away with just the one dressy jacket. I’m thinking I might just get another pair of these wide-leg pants and make it a uniform for my work days.

My friend Jenda asked me if I would ever choose to do this six-item wardrobe experiment again. I don’t think I would, not because it was too hard but because I feel I’ve gotten about as much from it — in understanding of myself and in rethinking appearance in general and mine in particular — as I can. Plus, as we’ve seen from my wardrobe choices since the project ended, I’m kind of just living the smaller wardrobe now anyway.

But one way that I might choose to do it again, differently, would be to choose six items that were not as “safe” as the ones I chose this time. Maybe an extravagant frock coat, like Captain Jack Sparrow’s; fancy pants like my party pants or some ruffle capris; a notable dress; a t-shirt and a tank top, but neither in black nor white; and remarkable sweater. Could I wear those items for a month, to client meetings and the grocery store and everywhere else? I’ve said before that I am weary of wearing boring clothes, that I want only to wear fun clothes, yet I drift back to the staid and safe again and again. If I were to do this again, I’d like to challenge myself to be as freaky on the outside as I fell inside.

If you’re thinking of trying the six-item wardrobe diet or any similar wardrobe-limiting project, do it. Fascinating.

I base most of my fashion sense on what doesn’t itch.  ~Gilda Radner


People seldom notice old clothes if you wear a big smile.  ~Lee Mildon

Fashion is what you adopt when you don’t know who you are.  ~Quentin Crisp

What to wear

Here’s how I knew I need to go on a clothing diet: Yesterday I read about Six Items or Less in the New York Times, and, while I felt inspired by the people who restricted their wardrobes to a bare minimum of items for a month, I felt more inspired to buy more clothes.

Specifically, I felt that I needed a pair of jeggings — an item of clothing I’d never heard of before, denim-ish leggings. Clearly the perfect thing to straddle the line between casual and hip. I also thought I would do well to get some more black tank tops, and a versatile black dress that could be accessorized to be dressy or day-to-day. I started searching online for an ideal pair of jeggings, ignoring the nagging thought that my closet is crammed to full to fit even a tiny pair of jeggings or leggings or even flip-flops; my two bureaus are overflowing with clothes; and I have yet more dresses and coats and stuff in the basement and garage.

Eventually I convinced myself that I would rather attempt a six item clothing diet with only clothes I already own. I consider this bit of shopping self-control a major win already.

The idea of a clothing diet is this: Choose 6 items of clothing and wear them, and only them, for a month. Underwear, socks, and pajamas don’t count; I’m also not counting workout gear, nor clothes for yardwork (still have a half a yard full of forsythia and regrown weeds to battle in the next few weeks). If you have several duplicate items, like white t-shirts or black tank tops, you can count that as a single item since it really just reduces your laundry efforts. Accessorize in any way you please.

I’d previously thought of trying something like The Uniform Project, in which a woman wore the same dress (actually multiple copies of a dress) every day for a year. But the focus there was on creativity, whereas I’m more interested in simplicity and focus.

I’ve thought often of adopting a uniform, like Steve Jobs and his black turtleneck/blue jeans, or like habits worn by the nuns at my grade school. How lovely it would be to not fuss each day about what to wear, I’d think. Over time I have in some ways simplified my wardrobe, color coordinating it so that it’s easy to mix and match. Even so, it still takes time and mental effort each day to choose an outfit. And I’ve hesitated from making a commitment and really sticking with a uniform of my own.

No more. Starting today I’m wearing these items for a month:

IMG_0467

Long black skirt
Light-weight khaki pants
Brown knit capris
White t-shirt
Black tank top
Crinkle-dyed embellished top

The big decision was whether to include a jacket, for client meetings. In the heat of this summer I haven’t worn a jacket in weeks, so including one would feel like a waste of an item for this project. And over the next few weeks I don’t anticipate many meetings with new clients — we’re mid-project on several jobs. If a meeting does come up I may be able to squeak by with the embellished top and skirt, or black tank and a scarf.

One of the interesting points that the Six Items of Less participants made was how few people even noticed that they were wearing the same clothes over and over. In part this may show how clever folks are at accessorizing, but I think it’s also true that people on the whole don’t notice what others wear. Will anyone notice that I’m wearing the same clothes every day? I’ll let you know.

Want to join me on the diet? We can be our own support group, ready with a calming word when the compulsion to buy just this one awesome pair of pants feels too much to bear. We can do it!

Lucky pants / unlucky pants

How many pairs of lucky pants does Kessler own?
None.

How many pairs of unlucky pants does Kessler own?
Nine.

Is this bad?
Most definitely. There are days when a certain something extra is required of us and on those certain something extra days we are accustomed to reaching into the closet and finding (on an extra-special hanger perhaps?) a pair of lucky pants. But not Kessler. Kessler has no lucky pants. I repeat: Kessler has no lucky pants.

How unlucky are these pants?
1 pair of khaki slacks: Very unlucky.
1 pair of navy blue trousers: Very unlucky.
3 pairs of blue denim jeans (baggy, loose, and boot cut, respectively): Moderate to seriously unlucky.
1 pair of black mesh sweatpants: Way unlucky.
1 pair of green corduroys: Mildly unlucky.
1 pair of camouflage pants: Vaguely unlucky.
1 pair of U.S. Navy dress white bell-bottoms: Mondo, off-the-charts unlucky.

Excerpt: Jim Ruland: Kessler Has No Lucky Pants – short story

I was reminded suddenly today of this short story by Jim Ruland. It’s one of my favorite stories of all time, one that jumps up in my mind often — perhaps because luck seems to me a big part of life.

And/or because every day I see a lot of people wearing pants.

I am, in fact, myself currently in the market for new pants. Sparing you the sordid details, I have been down to two pants of pants for some time, and as of Thursday am down to just one, with the other on the way out as well.

But a good pair of pants is hard to find. They are more difficult to fit than skirts are (although less difficult than dresses, which must fit shoulders and waist and hips and bust plus get torso length correct — there’s a reason the wrap dress is a wonder in the world of attire, and the reason is that it’s so adjustable in four of these dimensions). I also am personally equipped with legs that are just a little longer than average yet just a little shorter than what the fashion industry considers “long.” This means I am forced to choose my shoes for heel height to match my pants, and then match top to both, plus maybe a belt. Don’t forget they all have to be suited (ha ha) to the activities I’ll encounter in a day.

Factor in the potential luckiness or unluckiness of my pants themselves, and it’s a wonder I can get dressed at all.