The psychology of fashion is a curious thing. For those of us who see it as more of an extra-curricular activity, hobby, or way of life than we do a means of public decency, the contents of a wardrobe can have a bizarrely strong influence on the mindset. It would be a pointless exercise to even attempt to estimate the number of times the phrase ‘I have NOTHING to wear!’ has been wailed by distraught souls standing facing wardrobes jammed burstingly full with garments appropriate for any purpose, no matter how extreme the weather or how unusual the occasion. While I do not count myself among those of the over-fed clothing archive (my frustrating fussiness has granted me far too many bashfully bare naked coat hangers swinging dully from my rail), I am forever in awe of the power that a lack of inspiration can have over me. No… that must be re-phrased. For my downfall is not commonly a lack of inspiration (I spend enough hours drenching myself in floods of fashion imagery suffice to saturate my mind with ideas-a-plenty), but more so the deprivation of a means to an end. Many occasions are etched into my memory of exasperatedly describing to my mother that suffering an insufficiency in garment variety is like an artist being robbed of his brushes. For she who resides on planet fashion by choice, to dress is to express: and to have a means of self-expression straight-jacketed is embarrassingly debilitating. There is simply no denying the fact. It is for this reason (that is, my awareness of my own susceptibility to momentary-muscular-immobility-driven-by-indecision) that stringent planning has become paramount in avoiding falling prey to this unwanted problem. For one who despises the stress of running late, the doom of indecision must be avoided at all costs: without doubt, finding oneself positioned mind-numbed and limb-locked in one’s bedroom is NOT the suggested method of gaining a reputation of timeliness OR timelessness – unless of course timelessness suddenly becomes about gaining the reputation of being notoriously without-notion-of-time. There is nothing like tardiness tarnishing that well-polished exterior you have worked so hard to maintain. After all, style extends beyond the way you’ve tamed your tresses or massaged your delicate cuticles, or the height of heel you’ve managed to successfully conquer. Really, it’s more about the projection of image… and while your shirt may be perfectly Prada, and your complexion clear (courtesy of CHANEL), a hasty case of misbuttoning and a shameful orange tideline extending along the jaw will instantly undo all those desperate attempts in a flash. And so, to overcome this tortuous and tumultuous start to the day (a pair of prematurely-awoken bleary eyes is not the slightest bit helpful either) pre-selection is key. If a girl has anywhere to be in the morning, the best way to safe-guard against becoming the latest victim of the unforgiving image-destroying beast is to reserve a small pocket of pre-slumber time each evening in which to make your enlightened ensemble decisions in a state of calm. Gone is the wicked element of panic, and time considerately refrains from biting at your ankles in the way that it typically enjoys doing so aggressively between the hours of 6 and 10am on any regular day. I assure you, it is a process that CAN feel very Zen… sort of. Don’t worry, you aren’t about to be sold a week-long health retreat that will miraculously help you overcome your visionary short-comings, as lovely as it is to imagine suddenly being freed from the binds of frantic fashion flaps forevermore. In the interest of becoming a more considerate person, this manageable routine is well worth your while. In all likelihood, you will come to be thought of as far more polite and socially-minded, whether through your newfound punctuality, or your future reputation of ‘she who refrains from the public offence of unkemptness’. Could the situation be any more win-win? 

Mar 23 -