Julia Spencer-Fleming: I got the Christmas season Talbots catalogue the other day, and tossed it on top of its LL Bean, Boden and J Crew sisters on my special catalogue library, aka, the shelf by the toilet. I confess, I love clothing catalogues, which style outfits in ways you usually don't see on their websites, which concentrate on zooming in and giving you the front and back of every single item. (The days of purchasing from the catalogues themselves is long gone, though I understand you can still call LL Bean and get a friendly, helpful Mainer to take your order.)
Usually, this time of year, I'm circling items and letting the kids know I'd love this sweater or that scarf. Or in stores, while shopping for others, I'd snap outfits I like and share the picture in our group chat. (When Ross was alive, I'd send the picture to one of the girls, who would physically take him to the store and guide him to the item. Thanks, girls!) I LOVE winter clothing, and let's face it, winter lasts a long time here in Maine. Show me some red and black checked pants or a cardigan with a fur collar, and I'm a happy woman.
But this year?
Nuthin'.
I mean, I asked for some heavy-duty socks to wear when walking the dog, and a new pair of gloves because I never seem to keep both together for more than two years in a row. But a sparkling sweater perfect for wearing to the symphony? Don't need it. Adorable half-boots for meeting friends for brunch? Don't need those. New earrings? Forget it, they just get tangled in my mask.
It's amazing to realize how few clothes you really need when you never go anywhere. I have a Zoom shirt - what else am I going to wear to dress up? I have yoga pants and flannel pajama bottoms and knit leggings for indoors, and jeans for dogwalking and working outside. I look at Talbots adorable plaid ankle length pants, but even at 50% off...
Besides, who wants to wear a waistband in the house?
I suppose the real lesson is that I never did need twenty pairs of pants and thirty shirts and I-can't-even-count how many sweaters. I wonder, when this is all over, if we'll all become a bit minimalist when it comes to our wardrobes. Maybe we can emulate the French, who famously have a few pieces of clothing of excellent quality. When putting my summer clothes in the attic and bringing down my winter things, an annual ritual for cold-weather climes, I realized I had THREE pairs of black dress trousers. Why? I picked one and put the other two on the Goodwill pile.
So despite the allure of cute and cozy winter knits, there will be no clothes on my Christmas wish list. With quarantine stretching out until at least the summer, and perhaps longer, I simply can't justify the expense (not to mention the eternal issue of storage space.) I work at home, I walk the dog, I got those covered.
Although I did see an amazing set of cashmere lounging pajamas...
How about you, dear readers? Is your wardrobe growing, shrinking, or maintaining?
