Dressing Meditation
Fashion as mindfulness and re-finding my center in my closet.
Howdy, y’all! I’m in the mists of moving, so if your inboxes feel a little light this week, that’s why. Here’s a little rambling to tie you over. Enjoy!
Remember, sharing is caring. If you like what you read, send it to someone who might also think too deeply about the clothes they wear.
On Martin Luther King Jr. day, my husband and I took Gordon and a friend of ours on an eight mile hike. It was humbling, to say the least. It was also an unexpected spark of inspiration. It catches you when you least expect it, I suppose.
As we walked amongst the trees, in between dodging roots and heaving sighs, Cedar tells us about a book he listened to on the Pacific Crest Trail. “Walking Meditations by Thich Nhat Hanh saved me,” he said. I asked him what was one of the most profound things he remembered from the book and he said:
“Walk upon the earth as if it’s a living organism.”
This really struck a cord in me. What if we all treated the earth like it was a living being? Not a thing to be conquered or claimed? Not a thing that we use for its exhaustive resources?
And what if we applied this same train of thought to our clothing?
I look at the gray sweatshirt I’m wearing. The one with the tiny shark embroidered on the left breast side. A staple in my athleisure wardrobe, its fraying cuffs have lost their elasticity from years of (literally) rolling up my sleeve. It has coffee stains and the neckline isn’t as taught as it once was. I spill more coffee on it. Damn. Into the hamper it goes.
I look down at my khaki green, wide-leg pants I found on a Crossroads rack so many years ago. The ones I had taken in when I got my “break-up bod” in 2021. They fit a little snugger now. There’s a hole in the leg where Gordon’s puppy teeth ripped through the fabric over a year ago. I mended it with thread that’s a shade more yellow than I’d like, but it does the trick. I tell myself no one will notice.
And I look down at my shoes, the slip-on Bad Bunny x adidas I got for my birthday last year. The cream, suede toe is graying with the dirt and dust of city streets, near and far. In their short time in my closet, they look much older than they are. I look at the gum soles, stained with grass and mud. With chasing dogs and stray fruits at the farmers markets. Markers of time. They carry me to places familiar and strange.
I’m observing my clothes and wondering if I’ve been good to them. Have I treated them like living beings? What would they say about me if their fibers could talk? Have I been a good clothes-mom?
When I look at my clothes and ask what they aren’t doing for me, maybe the real question should be what am I not doing for them. Have I misread the care instructions? Do they need a good de-pilling? Are there holes that need mending? Spots that need pre-treating? Do they smell?
What will taking better care of my clothes feel like? What will it do to the fabric as I hold it against my body and feel it on my skin? Will it lay differently? Will it feel lighter? Heavier? Warmer? Cooler? Softer?
Will anyone notice if I treat my closet differently? Will I treat myself differently? When I meet up with a friend for coffee, will she say, “You look different!”? Will it show in my face? Will you hear it in my voice? Will I speak with more care and ease?
Full disclosure, I still haven’t read Walking Meditations. It’s on my list. Yet somehow, this idea of treading lightly weighs on me like a heavy down comforter. Soft, clean, calming, and grounding.
I just wrote a series of newsletters called The Problem of Personal Style. TLDR: I propose we take the idea of personal style too seriously. Outsourcing our “problem” only causes more and being chronically online habits might be to blame. Bringing us back to our analog, tactile roots will help us reconnect with our sense of play and hopefully, will make getting dressed fun again.
So I feel a little funny talking existentially about getting dressed.
Yes, I stand by the idea that overthinking gets in the way of our style philosophy. But we do need to care more about the clothing we have. We should care about where each pieces comes from and it’s full life cycle. We should be taking good care of the things we have. Washing, mending, reusing, refashioning, up-cycling. It’s all a part of circularity, or taking a holistic approach to your wardrobe.
We should care about the fabrics we put on our bodies. Are they made of manmade fibers? Will they release more microplastics into the world? Or are they made of natural fibers? How quickly will they return to the earth when all is said and done? Will this piece become an heirloom my lineage will fight over when I’m in the grave?
This is what it means to be sustainable, after all. Work with what you have and make sure you have them for a very long time. So many precious resources went into every stitch, fiber, and fit. So much time and energy went into that t-shirt, sports bra, mini skirt, and everything else you wear.
So many hands touched your garment until it arrived in your mailbox or shopping cart. So much love went into deciding what color it should be, what notions it would have, how long it should be, and how to finish the hems. So much money was exchanged to get you a piece of clothing you’ll wear and leave behind, sooner or later.
And maybe showing each piece you own love, care, and gratitude will bring you closer to knowing who you are in your clothes.
Getting Dressed, a Meditation.
Pick out an outfit you know looks good on you. It can be for any event. Your work uniform, your gym clothes, maybe even your wedding dress. As you hold each piece, take a moment to reacquaint yourself with the garment. What does it feel like? What is the weight? What is the texture? What is it made of? Does it have any pilling, holes, or stains? Can you fix them? Do you want to?
As you pull each piece on, do it slowly like you’re moving through molasses. Ooze into your clothes. Notice how it feels to pull your head through the collar or your arms through the sleeves. How hard or easy is it to zip or button your trousers? What are the sensations you feel when you tighten the laces or slip on the straps?
When you’re dressed, look at yourself in the mirror. I mean, really look at yourself. What do you see? Someone powerful? Beautiful? Handsome? Confident? Brave? Happy? What are the profound memories you’ve had in these clothes? Where have they been with you?
As yourself, if this outfit were a living being, how would it feel about you? Would it be your best friend? Would it ask you to treat it better? Is there something you can do now or in the future to show it you care? Can you fold it a different way? Can you give it a little extra time in the sun? Does it need a good wash? Or is it due for a good dry cleaning?
When you’re done with this exercise, write down all your feelings in your journal.
That’s gonna be it for me today, folks! Because of my move, I might be MIA next week. You know what they say, “How can I miss you if you won’t go away?”
In the meantime, I hope you’ll share some of your clothing meditations with me in the comments.
This might be the most refreshing take on sustainability Ive seen lately. The flip from asking what clothes arent doing for us to asking what we're not doing for them is such a simple reframe but it honestly changed how I looked at my own closet this morning. Started actually mending a sweater I'd been ignoring for months instea dof just tossing it in the donation pile.
This is one of my fav things you’ve written. Great perspective. You NEED to read Thich Nhat Hahn, honestly any book of his will inspire you. His words are life changing.