I've given up on trying to define my personal style

It's not working for me

Photo by piotr szulawski on Unsplash

As soon as I read this brilliant post by

Maura Brannigan

, I knew I would have stuff to say about it. I urge you to read it before you dive into my post👇

I’m Quitting the Personal Style Industrial Complex™

For a few months, I followed and subscribed to a bunch of ‘personal style’ Substacks, every single one of them claiming to transform the way I feel about getting dressed. In doing so, without really knowing it at the time, I inadvertently subscribed to the idea that the clothes I wear must be deeply and thoughtfully considered, always in line with my ‘three words’ or whichever trademarked style system I happen to have watched a 20 minute YouTube video on.

I drank this stuff up like chilled rosé on a summer’s evening, believing fully and whole-heartedly that my wardrobe must be a direct representation of who I am and how I want to live. I had never scrutinised each individual piece of clothing in quite so much detail before, sizing up every t shirt and jumper to conclude whether it fit into my burgeoning ‘style DNA’, which was of course heavily influenced by the creators I followed. It must be elevated, yet understated. Simple, yet thoughtful. Minimal, yet textured. And, of course, it must prioritise quality over quantity (or more often both, when you’re receiving covetable gifts from high end brands on a monthly basis).

I realised pretty quickly that this highly curated, quietly luxurious existence is almost never achievable (or all that fun, actually) for normal people with normal lives - and that’s exactly how it’s designed to be.

Today’s personal style complex is a trend all of its own, an ideal that most of us will likely never, ever reach. It took several months of me trying and failing to emulate the day-to-day outfit formulas of people with more Dragon Diffusion woven leather bags than anyone would know what to do with, for me to realise that maintaining an overly-curated, high-end, long-lasting wardrobe takes time and money that most of us simply do not have.

I can’t help but wonder (sorry, I had to do it): getting dressed is not supposed to follow a formula. It’s not supposed to be analysed or categorised. It’s supposed to be fun, intuitive, and perhaps informed by a quick google of the weather forecast if you’re in the UK.

Every time we decide that our clothes aren’t quite working for us, it’s the brands (and the people who work in this space) that profit from it, in the form of a 1:1 personal styling session, or a digital wardrobe edit, or a shopping spree on netaporter.com. We’re not supposed to achieve the ultimate curated wardrobe, where everything works in perfect harmony and we no longer need to consume to such an extent. If we all stop panic-buying new clothes every month, the entire industry breaks down.

Enough.

There will always be occasions when I want to take time and care over choosing my outfit, but the mornings where I simply chuck on a pair of jeans and a jumper, stuff my feet into my wellington boots and feel the fresh air on my face are far more frequent. I want to think less about my daily outfits, not more. I want to love my clothes because they make me feel good, because they remind me of a time or a place or a memory, not because they fit neatly into a box that I have labelled ‘Lauren’s Personal Style.’

Is it that deep? Maybe for some people, and maybe that’s OK, but it’s no longer serving me.

For a long time I latched on to the concept of personal style as a way to feel better about myself. Now I am content knowing that, while I will always find joy in my wardrobe, the fullness of my life is far more important than the clothes I wear while I live it.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this post! If you have something to say about it, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.