So, remember how I said last month that Brian had gotten all his back-to-school shopping done for under $50? Well, it turns out he'd like to change his major.
After forty-plus years of the same basic jeans-and-tees look, he found himself wanting to break out of that box a little. Not to change his look completely, but just to jazz it up with some more unconventional pieces. A little bit arty, a little bit bohemian, a little bit more in touch with his feminine side. Kind of like the stuff at Free People, but for guys (and ideally, a little less expensive). However, since he hadn't bought anything but jeans and tees for so long, he didn't really have any idea how to do this. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for, let alone where to find it. So he basically asked me to be his personal stylist—to help him define his style and upgrade his wardrobe.
I was happy to help with this, but being me, I also wanted to do it as ecofrugally as possible. Searching for inspiration on fast-fashion sites like LightInTheBox or Coofandy was okay, but I didn't want to buy a bunch of new stuff there. Unlike me, Brian hasn't taken the Dress Retro challenge limiting him to three never-used garments this year, but I still wanted his new-to-him clothes to be sustainable picks: secondhand if possible, and eco-friendly as a second choice. And, of course, I wanted any no-longer-loved pieces removed from his wardrobe to go to a good home, if at all possible.
We started the process by going through his entire closet and getting rid of everything he didn't like. Out went all the clothes he'd been given as gifts and never really worn, all the once-loved pieces too battered to wear, and most of the stuff bought for a heavier Brian that fit like a tent on his current frame. (We kept a few outsized pieces he particularly liked and transferred them to our office closet, just in case he ever needs a larger size again.) By the time we were done, we had filled up three bags with clothes in decent condition to donate to the thrift shop and one with completely played-out clothing to go to the textile recycling bin.
As we worked, we also looked at the pieces he was opting to keep and discussed what he liked about them. For instance, although he kept some shirts and sweaters in dark, solid colors, his favorites were generally the ones with bright colors or interesting patterns. When it came to T-shirts, he was all about the designs and slogans; even a freebie from the blood bank with some message like "I gave blood and all I got was this awesome shirt" was more appealing to him than a plain one. And for most garments, he liked a body-skimming fit: neither baggy nor skin-tight.
Armed with this information, we set out on stage two of our ecofrugal wardrobe makeover: hitting the thrift shops. Since there's a dearth of good ones in our area, we set aside a Sunday afternoon for a trip to Princeton, where I knew of two stores with a good selection of high-quality items. (Their prices are also on the high side—possibly higher than we might pay online—but I was willing to pay extra for sustainability.)
Our first stop was the textile recycling bin at Westminster Choir College, which we managed to find after driving around the campus a bit. After dumping off the worn-out garments there, we took the three bags of clothes in good condition and hauled them up the steps to the Nearly New Shop, where we handed them over at the front desk before heading off to browse the menswear racks. Brian tried on two short-sleeved shirts and opted to buy one, a white-and-teal check with snaps, rather than buttons, down the front (which he said would come in handy if he ever needed to impersonate the Incredible Hulk).
He also tried on a very heavy wool cardigan, standing right in front of the mirror first because he didn't want to have it on in the summer heat any longer than necessary. He'd owned cardigans before and worn them regularly, but always in plain, neutral shades; this one had a sort of Alpine pattern to it that he didn't think would be to his taste. But once he had it on and I asked him, "So, would you wear a sweater like this?" his response was, "You know, I think maybe I would." He was a little hesitant because he thought it would probably be too warm to wear at the office, but my position was that if it sparked joy, he should have it. Besides, as I pointed out, he can always treat it as outerwear, since it's certainly warm enough to take the place of a light jacket on chilly fall days.
Flushed with this success, we headed down the street to Greene Street Consignment. Brian tried on a couple more shirts here, but he didn't love any of them—and one that he did particularly like the look of, a color-blocked Henley, proved far too small for him. But he did hit on one unexpected find: a pair of slip-on canvas shoes, labeled as "sidewalk surfers," in a bright Guatemalan print. They were unlike anything he'd ever worn before, but with a price tag under $20, he figured they were worth taking a chance on. We then celebrated our successful shopping expedition with a quick trip to the library bookstore, followed by a snack and a game of cribbage at Starbucks, before heading home.
Cost-wise, our haul from this trip isn't as impressive as our previous one from Goodwill. We spent a total of $76.95 for just three items: one shirt, one sweater, and one pair of shoes. But more than half of that was for the cardigan, and when you consider the sheer weight of that thing, it's not so expensive on a per-pound basis. More importantly, adding these three new pieces to his wardrobe will help him feel a little more like himself—and without adding to the environmental burdens caused by fast fashion. And if that's not money well spent, what is?
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