In poor taste

I don’t think I’ve ever posted about outfits that specifically didn’t align with my own taste, and perhaps that has been an illusion for myself to believe that this journey towards personal style has been a straight an narrow one. That’s not true. At all. I have made many purchases that I regret deeply, and as with all experimentation, dressed in poor taste before I liked my style. I don’t hate this outfit, but the fur coat that is the statement in this look is something that I have only ever worn ONCE in the 3 years that I have it. So I thought maybe it would be good to start there — reflecting upon some of the pitfalls and how I try to avoid buying things I will regret.

There’s a lot of politics surrounding fur consumption, but 1) I think this is faux fur, and 2) I bought this for $20 at a thrift store in Maine and second-hand is a good enough ethical purchase for me. At the point of purchase, I really felt confident in getting this coat and wanted to wear it out often. But how did I end up here with this coat being something that I regret thrifting?

Mistake A: I let the thrill of the thrift get in the way of assessing whether it would fit into my closet. Getting something for cheaper than we think it would be usually priced at is super thrilling, and that’s part of the fun of thrifting. I was so excited to find a fur coat for $20 ($20!!) and was worried I would never find such a good deal again. That got the better of me. There will be many more discounts that will tempt me into a purchase in the future, so here’s what I would do instead. Firstly, whenever I feel this impulse to purchase something for the good deal, I know to stay extra alert and check against the other criteria I have for my closet. Secondly, I will talk to my friends about it and share my excitement for the piece. I know I am surrounded by enablers, so it is not helpful to get them to tell me not to get something (and also, it never works to rely on other’s judgments to curate your personal style). I want to share my excitement just so it gets out of my system instead of staying within my decision headspace like a live wire. Sometimes, I can appreciate pretty and fun things without having to own every single one of them, and so talking about it still gives me the endorphins of admiring it from afar and I feel like I have gotten something out of the thrift even if it is not an actual purchase. Lastly, I will ask others to wear it and see how it makes me feel looking at it from the outside. The thrifty joy that obscures my ability to assess how I actually look in the piece can be curbed when I see it on others. In a sense, it gets me out of my own body, head, and worst consumerist impulses.

Mistake B: I bought this coat because I thought “hey I don’t have a fur coat yet so this perfectly fills a gap in my closet!”. Wrong. Fitting into the closet is not literally checking a list of of inventory and stocking shortfalls. Previously, I mentioned that I will consider the other criteria I have for my closet. What are they and how do they govern personal style? Firstly, it’s about social context of the clothing. I probably have a much larger appetite for unconventional fashion, but there is a limit to what is perceived as socially acceptable. A fur coat is really nice, but I don’t think it is an appropriate outerwear for students. I can’t wear it out with friends because it just feels like I am drawing a boundary between us. I think about rich slavic ladies who chainsmokes and attend operas when I think fur — not a student who is surrounded by fellow students who dress mostly in hoodies and sweatpants. Secondly, fitting into my closet means having the right accessories for it. If clothing can be likened to a Michelin cuisine, then what makes personal style unique is not the main ingredient, but the way it is presented and garnished. I think my main garnish-of-choice is a pair of statement earrings — which works kind of mediocre at best with a fur coat. I think of sunglasses, bracelets, and handbags when I think of fur — and I have precisely NONE, nor do I like any of them. That is a style incompatibility. Lastly, I should have thought about the ease of maintenance. I don’t think material necessarily restricts my purchases — I am willing to iron linens, hand-wash cashmere, and dry-clean wool coats. However… fur?? Not only would it be expensive, it would also be difficult to find a place in Singapore that offers services for fur maintenance. Impractical clothing will almost always never be worn, because a) it makes you feel uncomfortable b) you will want to minimise the amount of cleaning and maintenance after wear.

Using these identified mistakes and solutions, I want to see whether this was a fool-proof way to make purchase decisions, and apply it to other parts of my closet. Case 1 is this beaded top I’m wearing in the outfit. In many ways, it is in the same theme as a fur coat — extravagant, and a mildly reeks of posh retired lady. I had also felt an impulse to buy it because the beadwork and quality was superb and probably worth more than $16 or however much I paid for it. However I don’t regret this purchase, because I think it fits very well with my accessories — I usually prefer gold metals — and reminds me of Peranakan clothing, which is something I could get behind wearing in the social context of Singapore. I do love this top, and the only reason I don’t wear it more often is just because handwashing it is a pain.

Another example of a thrift I made is the pair of jeans in this outfit. I think it gets a 10/10 across the board, and is one of those thrift finds that I will never regret. It was actually pricier than what I would have liked — around $30 — and I actually had to work hard on thinking of its place in my closet to feel like I’ve earned the rights to purchase. In the process, I see how this pair of jeans a) is a wardrobe essential that I know I will be able to wear in almost all my social context (I have 5 pairs of jeans) and b) I really think the mix of early 2000s with a 1960s bell bottom aesthetic is something that fits well with my existing style. My earring collection is similar to the ones I am wearing here — bold, and usually light coloured, and it works great to communicate a particular aesthetic alongside jeans. I will admit that I bought these pants even when I know that I have limited luggage space for what I will bring back to Singapore, so perhaps it’s not a practical decision. But hey, “would I bring this back with me in my suitcase if I have to pay for the additional checked baggage” is a great litmus test for whether we should buy something.

This might seem like an overly protracted bid for people to take me as their thrifting advisor, but really, the person who needs the feedback the most, is me. There are many other items like this fur coat that I regret buying and don’t really wear out. I think that those are all part of the process of finding out my personal style. Sometimes, dressing in poor taste and channeling a different persona can be fun. Just for this photoshoot, I was a bougie animal-print loving Slavic lady in the best possible maximalist way. And I learnt what not to do the next time I see a lush and glorious fur coat.