My new years resolution this year was to not buy any new clothes. Zero. The only exceptions are things that were needed for a specific event where I had no substitute – running shoes, a running headband, a black suit for a wedding. With a few days left in the year, I know I’ll finish the resolution successfully.
There were a couple close calls – I bought a pair of running shorts, but realized I was buying them for style, not functionality, so I promptly returned them. It wasn’t only the style part, the fact that I had suitable replacements (normal athletic shorts), made the purchase a flagrant violation.
It’s been a very valuable resolution, and honestly one I do think about frequently since I both like clothes and started working in an office five days per week (in a new city) a few months ago, which usually “necessitates” a new wardrobe to feel your best when starting a new job impress coworkers.
A move at the end of 2023 inspired the resolution. Upon packing, I realized I had a lot of clothing – quite a bit of which I didn’t wear. Plus, I had plenty of backups for almost everything I needed, so if I wash my clothes consistently, which generally happens, then the wardrobe would/could/will feel sufficient.
This mindset was also been a great way to cut down on spending, especially as I spent the first half of the year building a startup with a $0 salary.
This approach has left me with what I call the Warren Buffett punchcard philosophy for clothes. Buffett famously suggests treating your investment portfolio like a 20-slot punchcard—each decision should require so much conviction that once you buy a stock, you’ve used up one slot forever. I’ve realized this mindset works for my wardrobe too. After all, you can only wear so much at once, and most of us end up packing the same favorites in a suitcase anyway. It’s a thoughtful balance between living simply and making intentional choices.
It’s become clear that I already know my favorite jeans, T-shirts, socks, and brands, so next year, I’m focusing on buying more of those staples. And no, I’m not sharing my fashion secrets here—unless, of course, those brands want to sponsor this post.
I’ve also set a bar for myself: whatever I buy has to become my new favorite thing. I’m not too swayed by sales—I’ll patiently search for exactly what I need and wait for a good deal, as I’m allergic to paying full price).
To make room, I’m planning a holiday purge of all the clothes I don’t really like or wear. It’s refreshing to clear out space, and I enjoy passing things along to friends who’ll appreciate them more.
Over the year, I’ve received a couple of gifts, but not many, since most people know about my approach and understand I’m not looking for loopholes. Starting a new job came with a hat and a Stio zip-up, but those additions were balanced out by the inevitable losses—like orphaned socks and well-worn clothes finally giving out.
And since I recently moved to San Francisco, a city where fashion is less of a priority and more of a happy accident, this year-long experiment might extend into 2025.
unpublished alpha 