Tiia, I've recently tuned into your work and have really enjoyed your thought-provoking newsletters!
The soul of clothes and our emotional connectivity to them (have you read "Loved Clothes Last" by Orsola de Castro?) has been on my mind for quite some time. Years ago I started a blogging project to write a post dedicated to every item in my closet; I've since abandoned that endeavour, but the exercise made me realize how a large subset of my wardrobe - primarily the fast fashion "basics" I'd collected in my early 20's - felt unspiring and un-alive to me. On the other hand, there were beloved secondhand pieces I could go on and on about: their origin story, the construction and details, how I style them, and the memories woven into them year upon year.
The clothes that I see online (and am tempted by all the time) stir an emotional response too, but often only brief flickers of infatuation, like Tinder matches. I think the secret ingredients to developing long, smouldering love affairs with your clothes are time, space, and focus. You need time to get to know your clothes - to wear them and understand how they relate to your mind and body. You need space in your closet to actually see them, so they don't get lost in the clutter. And you need focus against the distraction of infinite beautiful things you could potentially own. Of course, modern life is constantly attacking our time, space, and focus - sometimes it's just easier to wear the same t-shirt and jeans as everyone else...after all, you can ruin what's already dead.
Thank you for your stimulating comment! Your blogging project sounds amazing. (Would you consider picking it up again?) I can imagine that basics (that are perhaps too basic) would not prompt much of an emotional reaction. I used to buy second hand fast fashion at times, and without exception I'd end up abandoning those pieces 6 months or a year later, because they just didn't evoke any feeling in me.
The idea of online shopping sharing an affinity with a Tinder match is so spot on. A quick superficial infatuation rarely leads to a long-term love affair, and it takes a fair bit of work to get to the bottom of one's feelings, to see if the match is for real, if it has a future, and if you can make a commitment.
Your last line about ruining what's already dead... It's so true. I wonder if on some subconscious level we think that we don't deserve any better.
I would love to restart that project (here it is fyi: https://someusesomewear.wordpress.com/wardrobe/) but I have a newborn who is demanding all of my time and energy currently. Hopefully I'll have more capacity to muse upon the contents of my closet soon haha.
So much of "non-emotive" clothing promises convenience and ease (again like Tinder - you can date on the toilet!). I can't help but see a connection between the proliferation of these types of pieces in modern closets and the declining mental health that we're always hearing about. Perhaps these clothes are a sort of mask for our internal anxieties and worries - like the clothes themselves, we can appear fine on the outside despite there being something amiss with the soul.
It took me a while to understand time was a unit of currency wrt clothes. Time to wear, time to know, time to manage, organize. And it’s the great equalizer. Even if you are a billionaire, you don’t necessarily have more time.
Yes, yes yes yes. What a beautiful and profound piece of writing. Thank you all of your insights are incredible and they’re woven together as beautifully as ... well something you probably know better than I. Something that lasts. Lately, I have been thinking about talking to my clothes -- when I clean my closet, I sometimes think “I don’t want to wear you” - most often about clothes that are binding when I am looking for ease. I want to have more conversations with my clothes. And here with you! One day IRL. 😘
Thank you Rachel!! I love the idea of talking to your clothes, like they're cherished friends. I talk to my plants often, and also to the clothes in my shop, as well as the shop itself (I always say "goodbye, you did great today" to it when I leave work), but I might have to start conversing with my own clothes, too.
Thanks for sharing that System interview, that was such a great read and left me with so much to think about; particularly the fact that critics and writers were the only access I had to fashion shows when I was a teenager -- Sally Singer and Sarah Mower of Vogue in particular, didn't just review shows; they vividly described the backstage, the mood, they interviewed the designers and reported on audience reactions. It was all so rich and it helped me connect to the clothes at a level that a single 2D image on IG could never match.
And of course, fashion editorials told a story too; I remember a photo feature in US Vogue about Miuccia Prada, Jil Sander, Ann Demeulemeester, and Donna Karan (what a quartet!) and it made me follow their collections avidly for years. None of this had anything to do with shopping or even how I dressed myself - I connected with the emotion, idiosyncrasies and creativity behind the clothes, and there was always a discussion of the technique or craft required to make the collections. These days, I feel so disconnected with most of what I see on runways, it just feels like another business.
Your newsletter made me think about how this disconnect has affected my emotional affection to the clothes I buy, and it was such a fun exercise. Some things I felt zero emotional affection for (and indeed this is mostly the fast fashion pieces!); some things I love because they've acquired a soul from being worn and loved and imbued with memories; and a few items I love because I feel an affinity for the design and/or designer. I've noticed that I have to follow a designer's work for years before I decide to buy something, perhaps to build that affection? And it usually only happens when I've had a chance to encounter the clothes in real life. It makes me think that if a designer's work doesn't pique curiosity in me to find out more, then perhaps I don't want whatever it was I was thinking of buying after all...
I was left thinking about the same thing re: the System interview. How differently I consumed fashion "in the good old days", how there was actual criticism, and how much I loved Tim Blanks' Fashion File, and later, the Style.com clips he used to do about the shows. It was a different experience. It all changed really quickly, almost overnight.
Re: magazines, I picked up a copy of Vogue UK a few months ago and I was shocked how most of the content was just regurgitated reprints. It seemed like the amount of original content was nonexistent and the quality of it abysmal. Nothing sparked an interest.
I, too, feel like I have to know a little bit about a designer / fashion house before really getting interested in the clothes themselves. Yohji is such a great example for me. I had read a lot about him over the years, but I had never seen a piece in real life, until I did, and something just clicked. The same had happened with Dries a lot earlier. I had followed his work for years and it took a long time before I actually saw anything from him in person.
Once again, Tiia, your post is wonderfully thought-provoking for me. I feel you are really onto something important here that has gotten lost for the most part in the trend towards uber-modernity in so many brands nowadays (whether fast fashion or luxury, in my opinion). Your reflections help me peel back another layer of my personal fashion onion, so to speak, around perhaps why I'm am feeling increasingly turned off by Tibi (and other brands, not wanting to rag on Tibi per se) and I notice feeling nervous, self-conscious in admitting this in public. Though I threw myself headfirst into buying lots of Tibi when I discovered the brand in May 2022, feeling at that time like I found my personal holy grail of style, I am now struggling with its heavy leaning into modernity which feels less personal, less "alive" in the animist way you talk about (I, too, like to anthropomorphize things). I find myself leaning back towards more classic looks or even romantic looks because they speak to my soul more, rather than my desire to create a "look." Though, I wouldn't have known to put the words "soul" to this before reading your work. Thank you for your courage to speak to these delicate topics.
I totally agree that it's not just fast fashion that's lacking 'a soul', it's also an increasing amount of more expensive (or luxury) brands. In some ways, as sad as it all is, I get that, because all of these brands need to sell products to exist, and shareholders are expecting perpetual, ever-increasing growth. Gucci firing Alessandro Michele says it all, really. The storytelling went out of the window for a faster growth. The system is just broken.
I think you can still appreciate your Tibi pieces despite the word 'modern' being a heavy element in Tibi's marketing lingo and their styling choices. A lot of their clothes are quite beautiful, and even though they say that their clothes are "pushed" and modern, they're actually fairly quiet clothes. Something about these clothes appealed to you initially, they're your clothes now, and every time you wear them, you're putting your personal imprint on them. As long as they're functional for your life, you can team them up in a way that's less 'modern', more personal. But having said that, I totally get what you mean. You bought into an idea, perhaps, rather than the clothes themselves, and that's probably why you're wondering whether the clothes are really "you".
Thank you, Tiia. It's true, much of the Tibi line are actually fairly quiet clothes and the pieces I have are indeed beautiful and very high quality. I love what you say here, "Something about these clothes appealed to you initially, they're your clothes now, and every time you wear them, you're putting your personal imprint on them." This feels good and helps me to begin imagining more where I would take them, the relationship I would make with them. Thank you.
So good Tiia, thank you! Love the thought of you feeling for the chipped tea cup. I guess this is partly what Marie Kondo was getting at by thanking the objects.
It’s funny how some garments have this quality and others don’t. In the past year I bought some clothing in Oaxaca and in Japan. While very different in style, I realize now thanks to you, that they all share this quality. They weren’t aligned to any adjectives (:-)) but they all spoke to me.
Is scarcity a necessary precondition for this mindset to flourish?
I think scarcity is definitely something to consider. (Just like with people, we don't feel attraction to or fall in love with just anyone.) I hardly ever go to shops that sell new clothes, and it's an odd feeling when I do: there's several of the same piece of clothing hanging on the rack, and it makes me not want to have them. But having said that, sometimes I'm at a fleamarket where every single piece is one of a kind (at least in theory), and they still don't necessarily spark anything. I can't figure out what it is, and I'm thinking it's just something we can't rationalize, as much as we'd like to.
Thank you! Yes, the stories are what make it meaningful. It’s called “just wear it (the shoe is scuffed)” - it’s nice to meet more people who are also a bit intellectual with their fashion. Anyway love your work!
Tiia, I picked you up that same “status and culture” book and it has been an interesting read. So much of what you wrote reminded me of an older book from childhood “the velveteen rabbit” but instead of clothes it’s a toy rabbit that “becomes” over love and time. I recently wrote a post of my own relating stoicism / Buddhism to wearing our “precious” things more. If you’re open - I’d love your take!
What a brilliant, thought-provoking piece Tiia - and everyone here who has chimed in with fantastic thoughts. As I mention far too often, as it's the premise of my fashion essay collection, I genuinely feel clothes have personalities and can shape us. Who we are today and who we strive to be. That is why fast fashion — pieces that are ubiquitous, linked by every influencer, etc — have no meaning, and lead to loss of identity. We don't know who we are when we are bots who wear the same thing. It's the same with the beauty category. Women are sculpting themselves to look like one another (there's a frightening surge in "instagram face" that is ethnically ambiguous and resembles filters), but it applies to fashion as well. As this lovely group truly loves clothes, for the design and creativity of it all (construction, fabrics, origin stories and more), we can embrace what they bring to our lives. And when we let go of a garment, we keep the memories. I never forget who I was when I wore something, more than where I went.
I fully agree with everything! Clothes are so much more than just the surface, and if we just tap onto that surface, it's no wonder we feel very little, or next to nothing. That's a really interesting observation about not forgetting who you were when you wore something. I can relate to that, big time.
It's so interesting that this sort of fast fashion mentality bleeds into the beauty industry as well. I hadn't thought of that previously, but you're so right.
This whole article is fantastic. I want to print it out and eat it.
I wrote my dissertation on haunted ornaments and possessions in Victorian Britain, and I haven't been able to think about any of my own belongings the same way since. You're completely right that most fast fashion pieces are soulless - they don't contain the love, the history of vintage pieces. But I think in some cases it's worse than that; hyper-mass-produced items are haunted by the exploitation inherent to their production, which nobody *wants* to think about, hence why even being sentimental creatures, our thoughts glance off them so readily. We don't want to look, they bring a restless unhappy feeling to us, so we get rid of them quickly, only to replace them with more.
All the more reason to slow down and break the cycle, if we can. 🖤
Tiia, I've recently tuned into your work and have really enjoyed your thought-provoking newsletters!
The soul of clothes and our emotional connectivity to them (have you read "Loved Clothes Last" by Orsola de Castro?) has been on my mind for quite some time. Years ago I started a blogging project to write a post dedicated to every item in my closet; I've since abandoned that endeavour, but the exercise made me realize how a large subset of my wardrobe - primarily the fast fashion "basics" I'd collected in my early 20's - felt unspiring and un-alive to me. On the other hand, there were beloved secondhand pieces I could go on and on about: their origin story, the construction and details, how I style them, and the memories woven into them year upon year.
The clothes that I see online (and am tempted by all the time) stir an emotional response too, but often only brief flickers of infatuation, like Tinder matches. I think the secret ingredients to developing long, smouldering love affairs with your clothes are time, space, and focus. You need time to get to know your clothes - to wear them and understand how they relate to your mind and body. You need space in your closet to actually see them, so they don't get lost in the clutter. And you need focus against the distraction of infinite beautiful things you could potentially own. Of course, modern life is constantly attacking our time, space, and focus - sometimes it's just easier to wear the same t-shirt and jeans as everyone else...after all, you can ruin what's already dead.
Thank you for your stimulating comment! Your blogging project sounds amazing. (Would you consider picking it up again?) I can imagine that basics (that are perhaps too basic) would not prompt much of an emotional reaction. I used to buy second hand fast fashion at times, and without exception I'd end up abandoning those pieces 6 months or a year later, because they just didn't evoke any feeling in me.
The idea of online shopping sharing an affinity with a Tinder match is so spot on. A quick superficial infatuation rarely leads to a long-term love affair, and it takes a fair bit of work to get to the bottom of one's feelings, to see if the match is for real, if it has a future, and if you can make a commitment.
Your last line about ruining what's already dead... It's so true. I wonder if on some subconscious level we think that we don't deserve any better.
I would love to restart that project (here it is fyi: https://someusesomewear.wordpress.com/wardrobe/) but I have a newborn who is demanding all of my time and energy currently. Hopefully I'll have more capacity to muse upon the contents of my closet soon haha.
So much of "non-emotive" clothing promises convenience and ease (again like Tinder - you can date on the toilet!). I can't help but see a connection between the proliferation of these types of pieces in modern closets and the declining mental health that we're always hearing about. Perhaps these clothes are a sort of mask for our internal anxieties and worries - like the clothes themselves, we can appear fine on the outside despite there being something amiss with the soul.
It took me a while to understand time was a unit of currency wrt clothes. Time to wear, time to know, time to manage, organize. And it’s the great equalizer. Even if you are a billionaire, you don’t necessarily have more time.
Yes, definitely. Time and effort.
Yes, yes yes yes. What a beautiful and profound piece of writing. Thank you all of your insights are incredible and they’re woven together as beautifully as ... well something you probably know better than I. Something that lasts. Lately, I have been thinking about talking to my clothes -- when I clean my closet, I sometimes think “I don’t want to wear you” - most often about clothes that are binding when I am looking for ease. I want to have more conversations with my clothes. And here with you! One day IRL. 😘
Thank you Rachel!! I love the idea of talking to your clothes, like they're cherished friends. I talk to my plants often, and also to the clothes in my shop, as well as the shop itself (I always say "goodbye, you did great today" to it when I leave work), but I might have to start conversing with my own clothes, too.
And yes, you and me, IRL, one day!
I could read your writing on clothes all day. Your perspective is so important--thanks for all that you do!
Thank you so much Jessie! I really appreciate it!
Thanks for sharing that System interview, that was such a great read and left me with so much to think about; particularly the fact that critics and writers were the only access I had to fashion shows when I was a teenager -- Sally Singer and Sarah Mower of Vogue in particular, didn't just review shows; they vividly described the backstage, the mood, they interviewed the designers and reported on audience reactions. It was all so rich and it helped me connect to the clothes at a level that a single 2D image on IG could never match.
And of course, fashion editorials told a story too; I remember a photo feature in US Vogue about Miuccia Prada, Jil Sander, Ann Demeulemeester, and Donna Karan (what a quartet!) and it made me follow their collections avidly for years. None of this had anything to do with shopping or even how I dressed myself - I connected with the emotion, idiosyncrasies and creativity behind the clothes, and there was always a discussion of the technique or craft required to make the collections. These days, I feel so disconnected with most of what I see on runways, it just feels like another business.
Your newsletter made me think about how this disconnect has affected my emotional affection to the clothes I buy, and it was such a fun exercise. Some things I felt zero emotional affection for (and indeed this is mostly the fast fashion pieces!); some things I love because they've acquired a soul from being worn and loved and imbued with memories; and a few items I love because I feel an affinity for the design and/or designer. I've noticed that I have to follow a designer's work for years before I decide to buy something, perhaps to build that affection? And it usually only happens when I've had a chance to encounter the clothes in real life. It makes me think that if a designer's work doesn't pique curiosity in me to find out more, then perhaps I don't want whatever it was I was thinking of buying after all...
I was left thinking about the same thing re: the System interview. How differently I consumed fashion "in the good old days", how there was actual criticism, and how much I loved Tim Blanks' Fashion File, and later, the Style.com clips he used to do about the shows. It was a different experience. It all changed really quickly, almost overnight.
Re: magazines, I picked up a copy of Vogue UK a few months ago and I was shocked how most of the content was just regurgitated reprints. It seemed like the amount of original content was nonexistent and the quality of it abysmal. Nothing sparked an interest.
I, too, feel like I have to know a little bit about a designer / fashion house before really getting interested in the clothes themselves. Yohji is such a great example for me. I had read a lot about him over the years, but I had never seen a piece in real life, until I did, and something just clicked. The same had happened with Dries a lot earlier. I had followed his work for years and it took a long time before I actually saw anything from him in person.
Once again, Tiia, your post is wonderfully thought-provoking for me. I feel you are really onto something important here that has gotten lost for the most part in the trend towards uber-modernity in so many brands nowadays (whether fast fashion or luxury, in my opinion). Your reflections help me peel back another layer of my personal fashion onion, so to speak, around perhaps why I'm am feeling increasingly turned off by Tibi (and other brands, not wanting to rag on Tibi per se) and I notice feeling nervous, self-conscious in admitting this in public. Though I threw myself headfirst into buying lots of Tibi when I discovered the brand in May 2022, feeling at that time like I found my personal holy grail of style, I am now struggling with its heavy leaning into modernity which feels less personal, less "alive" in the animist way you talk about (I, too, like to anthropomorphize things). I find myself leaning back towards more classic looks or even romantic looks because they speak to my soul more, rather than my desire to create a "look." Though, I wouldn't have known to put the words "soul" to this before reading your work. Thank you for your courage to speak to these delicate topics.
Thank you so much, Lisa!
I totally agree that it's not just fast fashion that's lacking 'a soul', it's also an increasing amount of more expensive (or luxury) brands. In some ways, as sad as it all is, I get that, because all of these brands need to sell products to exist, and shareholders are expecting perpetual, ever-increasing growth. Gucci firing Alessandro Michele says it all, really. The storytelling went out of the window for a faster growth. The system is just broken.
I think you can still appreciate your Tibi pieces despite the word 'modern' being a heavy element in Tibi's marketing lingo and their styling choices. A lot of their clothes are quite beautiful, and even though they say that their clothes are "pushed" and modern, they're actually fairly quiet clothes. Something about these clothes appealed to you initially, they're your clothes now, and every time you wear them, you're putting your personal imprint on them. As long as they're functional for your life, you can team them up in a way that's less 'modern', more personal. But having said that, I totally get what you mean. You bought into an idea, perhaps, rather than the clothes themselves, and that's probably why you're wondering whether the clothes are really "you".
Thank you, Tiia. It's true, much of the Tibi line are actually fairly quiet clothes and the pieces I have are indeed beautiful and very high quality. I love what you say here, "Something about these clothes appealed to you initially, they're your clothes now, and every time you wear them, you're putting your personal imprint on them." This feels good and helps me to begin imagining more where I would take them, the relationship I would make with them. Thank you.
Love this ♥️
So good Tiia, thank you! Love the thought of you feeling for the chipped tea cup. I guess this is partly what Marie Kondo was getting at by thanking the objects.
It’s funny how some garments have this quality and others don’t. In the past year I bought some clothing in Oaxaca and in Japan. While very different in style, I realize now thanks to you, that they all share this quality. They weren’t aligned to any adjectives (:-)) but they all spoke to me.
Is scarcity a necessary precondition for this mindset to flourish?
I think scarcity is definitely something to consider. (Just like with people, we don't feel attraction to or fall in love with just anyone.) I hardly ever go to shops that sell new clothes, and it's an odd feeling when I do: there's several of the same piece of clothing hanging on the rack, and it makes me not want to have them. But having said that, sometimes I'm at a fleamarket where every single piece is one of a kind (at least in theory), and they still don't necessarily spark anything. I can't figure out what it is, and I'm thinking it's just something we can't rationalize, as much as we'd like to.
This was thought provoking and so beautifully written. Thank you, Tiia!
Thanks Christina, much appreciated!
Thank you! Yes, the stories are what make it meaningful. It’s called “just wear it (the shoe is scuffed)” - it’s nice to meet more people who are also a bit intellectual with their fashion. Anyway love your work!
I'm glad to have found you (or for you to have found me)!
Tiia, I picked you up that same “status and culture” book and it has been an interesting read. So much of what you wrote reminded me of an older book from childhood “the velveteen rabbit” but instead of clothes it’s a toy rabbit that “becomes” over love and time. I recently wrote a post of my own relating stoicism / Buddhism to wearing our “precious” things more. If you’re open - I’d love your take!
Ah, The Velveteen Rabbit! Yes, I can definitely see the connection. Can anything really be meaningful without a story?
I will put your piece on wearing "precious" things on my reading list, and I look forward to reading it!
So many typos but hopefully my message is clear :)
What a brilliant, thought-provoking piece Tiia - and everyone here who has chimed in with fantastic thoughts. As I mention far too often, as it's the premise of my fashion essay collection, I genuinely feel clothes have personalities and can shape us. Who we are today and who we strive to be. That is why fast fashion — pieces that are ubiquitous, linked by every influencer, etc — have no meaning, and lead to loss of identity. We don't know who we are when we are bots who wear the same thing. It's the same with the beauty category. Women are sculpting themselves to look like one another (there's a frightening surge in "instagram face" that is ethnically ambiguous and resembles filters), but it applies to fashion as well. As this lovely group truly loves clothes, for the design and creativity of it all (construction, fabrics, origin stories and more), we can embrace what they bring to our lives. And when we let go of a garment, we keep the memories. I never forget who I was when I wore something, more than where I went.
I fully agree with everything! Clothes are so much more than just the surface, and if we just tap onto that surface, it's no wonder we feel very little, or next to nothing. That's a really interesting observation about not forgetting who you were when you wore something. I can relate to that, big time.
It's so interesting that this sort of fast fashion mentality bleeds into the beauty industry as well. I hadn't thought of that previously, but you're so right.
This whole article is fantastic. I want to print it out and eat it.
I wrote my dissertation on haunted ornaments and possessions in Victorian Britain, and I haven't been able to think about any of my own belongings the same way since. You're completely right that most fast fashion pieces are soulless - they don't contain the love, the history of vintage pieces. But I think in some cases it's worse than that; hyper-mass-produced items are haunted by the exploitation inherent to their production, which nobody *wants* to think about, hence why even being sentimental creatures, our thoughts glance off them so readily. We don't want to look, they bring a restless unhappy feeling to us, so we get rid of them quickly, only to replace them with more.
All the more reason to slow down and break the cycle, if we can. 🖤