How to tell If you actually love it - or if your brain’s just lying again :)
An ode to my mom’s “Still-Has-the-Tag” collection
It always happens around autumn. La rentrée hits, the air cools down, Vogue drops its September issue + Fashion Week rolls through, and suddenly we all want a new version of ourselves. Almost like a New Year’s resolution - but with scarves.
We browse Zara “just to look.” We convince ourselves that a new coat will fix the existential fog. (Spoiler: it won’t.)
But I’ve learned - painfully, and mostly by watching my mom’s impulse buys accumulate dust with the tags still on - that the brain is wired for newness. It’s dopamine. Now I can tell when I’m being seduced by the rush and when a piece is actually for life. Maybe that’s the secret of the Parisians: less, but better.
So how do you buy new things without falling into the trap? Here’s what actually works.
@marthastewart
1. Wait, wait, waaaait before buying anything.
If it’s love (un coup de foudre), it’ll still be there in two days. Most of the time, it’s not. That pause breaks the dopamine loop - the difference between “I need this right now” and “I’ll wear this for years.”
If you can’t stop thinking about it after a few days (or even better, a few weeks), then it’s probably a keeper. Go back and get it.
2. Stop scrolling. Seriously.
This is huge. Looking for something to buy is like snooping through your boyfriend’s phone - if you start, you’ll find something. Social feeds are engineered to make you want things you never knew you needed.
So close the app. Don’t browse “New In” for entertainment. Instead, hunt with intention: spotted something in Vogue? Try to find it second-hand on Vinted, Vestiaire, or in a vintage shop in Paris. It turns shopping into a treasure hunt, not a dopamine hit - and honestly, it’s way more satisfying to proclaim, “I hunted this down” than “I impulse-bought it at midnight.”
3. Ask: “Would I wear this three ways?”
Before you buy, mentally style it three different ways with things you already own. If it doesn’t naturally fit into your wardrobe, it’s not for you. Clothes shouldn’t require reinvention - they should make what you already have look better.
If you’re thinking, “Maybe I’ll wear it to an event I might have one day” - that’s usually a trap. Real life > imagined life.
4. Know your colour code.
If you always reach for beige, black, navy, or earthy tones - that’s your palette. Own it. Don’t buy a neon pink sweater just because it looked cool on TikTok. Trends are for scrolling, not for daily life. Your real colours are the ones that make getting dressed feel easy.
@marthastewart
5. Focus on texture, not trend.
Cashmere, wool, denim, linen, leather - textures age beautifully; trends age instantly. Buy the feeling of longevity. (Would you buy your daily skincare at Lidl? No. Same idea.) Choose fabrics that soften and improve with time, not the flimsy sweater that dissolves after two washes.
6. Buy for your real life, not your imagined one.
If you catch yourself thinking, “This would be perfect for when…” - stop. That’s fantasy. But if you think, “I could wear this tomorrow” - that’s reality. The clothes worth buying are the ones that suit the life you actually live, not the one you’re planning on Instagram.
7. Buy less, fall in love more.
My rule: if I don’t have a coup de cœur, I don’t buy it. I’d rather own two perfect sweaters than ten “meh” ones. Clothes aren’t museum pieces - they’re made to be worn, washed, and lived in. The goal isn’t a full closet; it’s a closet that feels full of you.
Small, true confession: my mom still buys things “for someday” and then asks me months later where I found that exact style she loves — while the tags are still on her shelves. I love her, but she is my cautionary tale. I used to steal back the pieces I liked from her closet; now I try to teach her to shop the way I do — less, better, with actual wear in mind — largely because I’m selfish: if she starts wearing her things, I get inspired again and can legitimately borrow them. Baby steps.
Final thought: my current plan is simple - buy well, coach my mom out of “someday” shopping, then happily steal the pieces she actually wears.
