“The older I get, the more I realise that the most luxurious thing is being able to live in a walkable city. Wearing a nice little outfit and walking 15 mins to buy just enough groceries for a single dinner will make you feel like Mrs. Dalloway going to the market.” — Derek Guy on @dieworkwear
Earlier this week, I went shopping. I’d been working from home on something particularly tedious, and when I found myself listlessly window-shopping online like a robot out of boredom, I decided enough was enough.
I put on “a nice little outfit” (as the wonderful style writer Derek Guy put it), headed to the library to work, and then spent the afternoon visiting a couple of secondhand stores. I didn’t buy anything, but I did see some nice things, the weather was lovely, and I had fun.
This trip turned up several things that tripped off the “YES” reaction in me, but all in different ways, and I thought it would be fun to break them down and assess my many motivations for wanting to buy something.
The SPECIAL piece
My eyes lit up when I saw this jacket—workwear-ish, rich earth tones, tactile, an easy shape that works for everyday wear. All the things I love.
Then I saw it was a Kapital jacket and my heart sank a bit—I’ve seen Kapital pieces on secondhand markets and I knew it was going to be expensive (especially if they’re a bit more detailed, like this one). And it was—A$670 (about US$440).
A new Kapital jacket is expensive (a basic fleece goes for about A$450, simpler jackets about A$700 to $1,000, and the most intricate pieces upwards of A$1,500), so I suppose A$670 was a decent markdown but it wasn’t exactly a bargain. Certainly it was out of my budget.
Since I wasn’t going to buy it, I settled for admiring the details; after all, I don’t see Kapital pieces in real life very often. Kapital pieces are known for their worn-in feel and eccentric mishmash of cultural influences, often employing traditional Japanese techniques like shibori and boro. As David Sedaris once memorably put it: “The clothes they sell are new but appear to have been previously worn, perhaps by someone who was shot or stabbed and then thrown off a boat. Everything looks as if it had been pulled from the evidence rack at a murder trial.”
I agree with him. The details are delightful.
This piece got me thinking about what’s “special” to me. Sometimes, it starts with the brand. In a chat with
over IG the other day, we talked about how brands influence whether we want something, because we have formed specific, emotional attachments to certain brands and designers. Maybe we adore the work of certain designers and have followed their work, or sometimes it’s simply nostalgia (I feel a tingle of warmth and fuzziness when I see old Esprit but Gap does nothing for me, because the latter wasn’t in Singapore when I was a child, but the former was).But mostly, SPECIAL is when something hits many “joy” buttons at once. Workwear-inspired? Check. Hardworking fabrics? Check. A playful spirit? Check. Good workmanship? Check. That impossible-to-articulate feeling of a piece with strong design integrity, where you feel the spirit of the person or team who created it? Check.
SPECIAL hits different for everyone—even for me, there are many ways for this feeling to register—and what is ordinary to one person can feel intensely personal to others. Last year, I bought a pair of Needles Japan HD trousers, hardly an original shopping decision, but I love it with a joy that seems almost silly. It looks the same on me as it does on everyone else, but when I wear it, I feel like it was made for me—it speaks emotionally to my love of the playful, tactile, yet practical. It was a big splurge by my standards, but I bought it with a certainty that I would treasure it. And I do.
I feel the same way about this Kapital jacket, except that alas, reality was biting a little hard in this case. With an eye on the holiday I was saving for later this year, I bid a wistful goodbye, and trusted that someday I would find something else just as special.
Where I found this: Goodbuys (Brunswick)
The (nearly) “too good to pass up” classic
The quality in vintage and thrift stores may not be what it used to be, but you can still find well-made things that stand out by a mile compared what is being sold new in stores these days. Like this vintage London Fog trench.
It’s made of cotton and polyester (standard for London Fog1), and it was A$79 (about US$50), which is a decent price (you can find similarly priced ones on eBay) for the store I was in. I’m quite sure it’s real vintage (London Fog today does not have same charm as it once did) because it had a tag of the union2 that made the piece sewn into the lining.
This is the type of well-made, decently-priced classic I am always tempted to bring home with me, simply because it seems too nice to leave behind. It was cotton-poly but it didn’t feel plasticky; it had a woven hand-feel that reminded me of wool gabardine and it felt expensive. The finishings all looked pretty good and the details were practical (well-placed pockets and fastenings). It also fit me quite well. What can you can buy in a mall for $50 these days that looks and feels this nice?
Plus, it’s a classic! You won’t regret it! Right?
In the end, I ignored all the dopamine shouting at me in my head, and let it go. Classic as it was, I already have a trench coat. Although mine doesn’t quite fit me as well as it once did (it’s a bit snug in the shoulder), it is made of wool gabardine, which is a glorious fabric (lightweight, water-resistant, the most beautiful texture). As replacements go, I am still holding out for the day I find a wool gabardine one—my current coat is too nice to simply give it up for anything less.
Where I found this: Goodbuys (Brunswick)
The cute, affordable “why the hell not” piece
Oh, this denim vest. They’re not uncommon in thrift and vintage stores, but this one (unlabelled) had a very nice fit—exactly like a slightly oversized denim jacket but without the sleeves. I liked it more than any other denim vest I’d tried in the past, and it’s also very practical for Melbourne weather, which is frequently “transitional” regardless of time of the year, and calls for lightweight layers that are easy to doff or don.
It worked for my style, it was my size, it was A$53 (US$34), which wasn’t a steal but reasonable for an indie consignment store with a well-curated selection. Plus the denim was very nice and sturdy. It was within my budget and secondhand. Why the hell not?
The thing is, I have many things like this—nice things that are right up my style alley and perfectly tuned for my everyday life—and I just didn’t need more. I could buy this with no serious regrets, but a part of me knows I’m just enjoying the thrill of finding a nice thing, and nothing more. And when I am trying to consume less, I want to make the things I actually buy really count.
(Also, it wasn’t the Kapital jacket. And there was no doubt which item thrilled me more.)
Where I found this: Mutual Muse (the Brunswick store)
What I learnt
When I cast aside the thrill of the new and the urge to buy something, I realised the day had been quite instructive in terms of what I am drawn to and where my style is these days.
I am less drawn to “classics” than I used to. I used to seek out classic designs for their timelessness, thinking they would be more enduring in my closet. This is still true, to a certain extent, but ultimately, no design is “future-proof” and we’re better off focusing on what we like and will wear, rather than trying to peer into the future. Moreover, my existing clothes already strongly leans classic, so these days, I am more drawn to pieces that accentuate and riff on the classics instead.
I remain drawn to “craft-y” details. I have always had a weak spot for crafts—embroidery, beading, quilting, stitching, patchwork, weaving, dyed patterns, knitting, and so on. But I am never quite sure how to integrate such pieces into my life, and part of why I found the Kapital jacket so alluring was because it masterfully mixed textures in a harmonious way. It also made think again of the pieces in my wardrobe that are on the “craft-y” side, and how I can be more intentional about putting them together with unexpected combinations.
I don't need more “nice but not wow” clothes. Somewhere down the road, life will change and I will surely need more well-designed “everyday” staples and accent pieces (like that denim vest). But for now, I am actually quite happy with what I have. Unless something is a significant upgrade, or replaces a thing that’s too worn out or doesn’t fit, I can let the nice things pass me by.
What I wore
A little OOTD as a parting note, because I rather enjoyed my nice little outfit.
It was sunny enough to bare arms, but chilly enough to layer, so I wore a knit vest belted over a tee, wide-leg jeans and sneakers. I usually wear the vest loose, so belting it felt like fresh touch. I’m carrying two bags (one for my laptop) because I went into the library in the city to work in the morning.
And after shopping, I went to a grocery store, bought enough things to make a single dinner, and went home.
A very nice day indeed. Thank you Derek Guy, for the inspiration.
A fun forum thread about London Fog fabrications.
This was such a thoughtful exercise; thank you Lin! I always think it’s fascinating to look at what we were drawn to, why, and (also) how we did a good job of being thoughtful about it.
This line: “I could buy this with no serious regrets, but a part of me knows I’m just enjoying the thrill of finding a nice thing, and nothing more.” Is something I’m trying to be in touch with more. Am I interested in this item because it’s inexpensive and I would use it? Or will it be a stalwart in my wardrobe that LASTS.
Oh, that jacket!!!!