Rethinking "investment fashion"
When it's more than just cost-per-wear and buying classic "investment pieces"
In the past few years, whenever I took significant time off from full-time work, I would be asked about how I was going to get by financially. And my response was always the same (tired) joke: “I could sell my Chanel bag.”
Of all the things in my wardrobe, this Chanel 2.55 is probably the only thing worth stealing. I bought it in 2011 from a woman who bought it three years earlier at Bergdorf Goodman for about US$2,100 (she gave me the receipt and price tags!). I paid her about the same for it, which was and still is a lot for me, but I felt it was a fair deal, since the bag was in excellent condition and a new one retailed for twice as much at the time.
I was boggled when I learnt recently that a Chanel 2.55 now retails for over US$10,000 new. Obviously I wouldn’t get US$10,000 for selling mine, but it was strange to think that theoretically, my bag could be worth more than what I paid 12 years ago.
I’m not planning to sell it, nor do I actually believe it’d fetch much (a Chanel 2.55 doesn’t seem rare on the resale market). But it made me think about the idea of fashion as “investments”, which usually refers to one of two concepts — items that have significant monetary value on the resale market; or the philosophy of buying the best-quality clothing one can afford, with the goal of wearing it for a long time. Sometimes these two things overlap, but otherwise they speak to fairly different intentions.
The idea of clothing as a financial asset is a non-starter for me. Partly because according to articles like these, we should be investing in Supreme hoodies, Yeezys, Hermes scarves and Patek Philippe watches — all of which cost an absurd amount of money, and none of which appeal to me. And even if you do have clothes in your wardrobe that are actually worth something on the resale market, it takes full-time attention to turn reselling clothes into a solid retirement plan; give me a high-yield savings plans any day.
More compelling is the second idea — buying “forever” pieces as a more sustainable and mindful way to enjoy fashion. But this is harder to put into practice than it sounds, mainly because “forever” is such a nebulous thing to predict. I have some classic, beautifully-made clothes that I thought were forever pieces and would love to keep wearing, but they’re too small for me now, and they also do not suit my current lifestyle. You could argue that I can sell them on the resale market (thus proving fashion can be an asset), but if I did, it will probably be at a loss (proving my point that these are not appreciating assets). And I will likely spend what I made (and more) on more “investment” pieces, perpetuating the cycle of consumption.
I do believe in buying quality over quantity, but I feel like it’s important to be realistic and circumspect about what exactly what clothes can do for us. It feels like so much of the conversation around investment dressing is centred on buying the right pieces, but buying is really just the first step; lately I’ve started thinking more about the investment after the fact — the effort we make to wear our clothes well and to care for them to make sure they last.
As such, I am trying to be less lazy about playing dress-up with my clothes and trying harder to find new ways to wear things that I’ve grown tired of — not just styling them in different ways, but also adapting to suit my life as I evolve. I’ve taken dresses that are no longer my size or to my taste to my tailor, to turn them into new garments. I’m trying to avoid the “bifurcated wardrobe” by wearing old clothes in new contexts. When I shop, I think about whether the new garment will enhance what I already have, instead of thinking about a fantasy version of me. And on the care and maintenance side, I’ve replaced broken zippers, fixed ripped seams and patched up fraying garments. When I’m ironing or folding my clothes, I appreciate the little details that made me buy them in the first place. None of these are groundbreaking habits, and maybe it sounds a little boring, but together, they add up to make me enjoy and treasure my clothes a lot more.
When I was watching old episodes of “Tidying with Marie Kondo” on Netflix, I was struck by how often Kondo said that organising was about understanding our relationship with our belongings, and deciding which belongings we wanted as part of our lives. In her book, “Kurashi at Home”, she extends that idea by asking someone to imagine what their ideal life would be, and consequently, decide which belongings had a place in that life (kurashi roughly translates to “way of life”).
It made me think about the clothes I’ve chosen to buy in a new way — in a way, they are an investment in how I would like to live. They are things that make me feel great in the environments that figure strongest in my life. There’s a personal context to why something is a great investment for me, that cannot be quantified in resale value or even cost-per-wear (CPW). I have clothes that I’ve only worn three or four times since I bought them years ago, but I consider them great investments because they reliably make me feel amazing every time I need to trot them out — eg my “wedding guest” dresses, one of which I love so much, I wore it to my own wedding.
And perhaps this is why it’s impossible to prescribe “investment dressing” — we lead different lives and contain multitudes, and something like “buy good shoes” means different things to different people. If we’re truly shopping for the long haul, then we have to ask ourselves the right questions to decide what we want to welcome into our lives. And be able to distinguish the highs that come from shopping, as opposed to the joy of living a full life in your clothes.
So what then, of my Chanel 2.55? It certainly qualifies as a classic “fashion investment”, but it doesn’t mean much to me in those terms, and it doesn’t seem to have a place in my life. I rarely use it, partly because it’s quite heavy, but mostly because I feel self-conscious knowing that it’s now an outrageously expensive item that doesn’t seem to square with how I see myself.
But I’m not quite ready to let go of it just yet. Maybe I’m investing in the idea of a future me who will be able to appreciate and use this beautiful bag in all its glory — after all, tastes change, lifestyles change, and it never hurts to set aside a little something for what is yet to come.
This resonates so much for me. I find it hard to divorce ‘investment dressing’ from the context I usually see it in, which is fashion advice or editorial or marketing, helping a reluctant customer overcome her concerns over whatever price point she is being encouraged to stretch to. Like you, investments to me come with a coupon or a dividend and even better with the prospect of a capital gain. I think responsible consumption is important but that ‘investment’ in perishable goods like dresses and handbags is best understood as a metaphor ie. it RESEMBLES investment in the sense that you incur some hardship in the present (this handbag costs more), in order to enjoy a later benefit (you will use it forever), but it is NOT an investment in the sense that funding your pension plan with the cost of the handbag now results in compounding returns later on.
Marie Kondo’s guideline for visualising the objects that populate the life you aspire to seems to me to be better suited to figuring out which of your current possessions to retain or discard, rather than which of the shiny seductive goods on offer you should buy, storage space being finite and fantasy lives being infinite for most folks. My 2 cents would be to keep the bag :)
I have been thinking a lot about this idea, and you write about it so thoughtfully. It's such an interesting idea that the only pieces that might qualify for like, financial folks, as "investments" - aren't what you're interested in. I do think though as I shop about what I want to "hold" or "buy into" etc. Something about viewing it in this lens is very powerful and leads us to be considered, I think. Thank you for writing such an honest and thorough consideration!