Shopping for the Life I Wanted, Not the One I Actually Lived
For years, my wardrobe was filled with clothes for a version of me that didn’t really exist. I had outfits for fancy dinners I never went to, statement pieces I wore once for photos, and heels that looked amazing in theory—but never made it out of the house. I kept buying for the “someday” life instead of the one I was actually living.
The problem? My day-to-day looked nothing like the lifestyle I was shopping for. I worked from home, ran errands, went on coffee dates, and did school pickups. But when I opened my closet, I had nothing that fit those moments. I was constantly getting dressed with the wrong wardrobe for my real life.
That shift changed everything. I started thinking of my wardrobe as a reflection of my current routine—not my aspirational one. Before I buy anything new, I ask myself, Would I wear this next week? That one question keeps me grounded in reality and helps me build a more intentional wardrobe that works for now.
Falling for the Sale Trap
There was a time when I’d get that rush from finding a deal. You know the feeling—50% off, extra 20% at checkout, final sale. I’d convince myself it was a smart buy because it was discounted. The truth? Most of those items ended up sitting in my closet with the tags still on.
Just because something is on sale doesn’t mean it’s a good investment. If I wouldn’t have paid full price for it, it usually means I didn’t truly love it. I was buying for the thrill of the deal, not because the piece had a real place in my wardrobe. And those “deals” added up in the worst way—clutter, regret, and no actual outfits.
Now I approach every sale with a plan. I don’t scroll aimlessly. I ask: Would I buy this at full price? If the answer is no, I walk away. Shopping smarter means buying things you’ll wear—not just things that were on sale. It’s one of the most freeing shifts I’ve made in how I shop.
Ignoring How Things Feel on My Body
I’ve bought so many pieces because they looked cute on someone else. Or because I liked how they looked on the hanger. But when I wore them? I was adjusting, fidgeting, or constantly tugging at something. It didn’t matter how “good” they looked—they didn’t feel right on me.
For a while, I tried to push through. I thought fashion meant sacrificing a little comfort. But honestly? If I don’t feel good in it, I don’t feel good wearing it. And when I feel off, I act off. It shows in my posture, my confidence, my whole energy. The most stylish outfit means nothing if I’m uncomfortable in it.
Comfort is non-negotiable now. If I put something on and immediately feel unsure, it’s a no. I trust that feeling. Because the pieces I wear the most—the ones I feel expensive, confident, and calm in—are the ones that feel good the moment I put them on.
Buying Pieces That Didn’t Go With Anything I Owned
So many times I’ve bought a top and thought, This is so cute! only to realize once I got home that I had absolutely nothing to wear it with. It would sit in my closet, waiting for the some day pants, shoes, or jacket I never got around to buying.
One-off purchases were my weakness. I wasn’t thinking in outfits—I was thinking in moments. But if your wardrobe doesn’t connect, getting dressed becomes a puzzle every single day. And eventually, I stopped reaching for those pieces because they were just too hard to style.
Now I shop differently. Before I buy anything new, I mentally pair it with at least three things I already own. If I can’t see it working multiple ways, I leave it behind. It’s not about owning more—it’s about owning pieces that work together.
Following Trends Without Checking My Own Style First
I used to get caught up in what was trending—whether it was a color, a silhouette, or a style I saw on TikTok. I’d add it to cart because everyone was talking about it. But by the time I wore it (if I wore it at all), it didn’t even feel like me.
Trends can be fun, but they shouldn’t drive your entire wardrobe. Every time I followed a trend that didn’t align with my personal style, I ended up regretting it. I felt like I was wearing someone else’s outfit—and it showed.
Now, I check in with my style first. I ask: Does this fit into the wardrobe I’m already building? Will I still want to wear this three months from now? If a trend doesn’t pass that test, I let it go. Style is personal—and I’ve learned to trust mine.
