This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Angela Rozmyn, co-owner of Women’s Personal Finance, an online community and education platform. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Eight years ago, I decided I wouldn’t buy any clothing for a year. I’d become a parent for the first time, and often feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, I escaped to the shops for “me time” to have a browse.
I wasn’t shopping because I needed anything, but browsing turned to buying, and I had accumulated a lot of clothes I didn’t often wear.
We don’t have a large house, and my clothes took up way too much space. It felt suffocating — deciding what clothes to buy and wear, storing clothes, washing clothes, and picking up clothes from around the house. The mental load of clothes felt overwhelming.
I decided not to buy clothes
I had seen the capsule wardrobe idea — having a small number of well-loved pieces you wear over and over again. It was appealing to have less, reducing my mental load, but I didn’t want to give all my clothes to thrift stores and start again. It didn’t seem environmentally friendly, and didn’t sit well with me.
Instead, I decided not to buy any new clothing for a year, with the aim of wearing what I already had and figuring out what purchases I would need to make after a year.
The three-to-six-month mark was the hardest time of it all. For the first couple of months, it was a new and exciting experiment. I was focused and energized, with a purpose in mind. Between three and six months, the ban felt hard. I stubbornly refused to give up, especially as I had told so many people about what I was doing. Public accountability really helped me push through.
As months went on, my brain realized it was the new thing that I was settling into.
By the time I had finished the first year, I thought I might as well carry on for another. I still had a ton of clothes, and I was slowly learning to accept hand-me-downs from people who offered me clothing they no longer wanted as they learned about my challenge.
I took clothes from Buy Nothing groups
I expected to run out of stuff at some point and need to buy new stuff, but I thought another year was completely doable.
People near me using the Buy Nothing Facebook group often posted they were getting rid of clothes, and I gladly took them. I also set up clothing swaps where people could bring clothes they no longer wanted, swapping them out for new-to-them items.
After that second year, not buying became a habit. My commitment to not buying clothing has continued each year.
Throughout this process, I have learned to accept that I might not always be comfortable. For instance, we once went on vacation, and I forgot to bring a raincoat. One day, I got very soggy, and I considered whether I should buy one. In the end, I decided I had raincoats at home, and I wasn’t going to be spending the whole of the vacation in the rain. Getting a little wet for a couple of days out of the year wasn’t worth buying new.
I learned creativity with my clothing, too — mixing and matching items I wouldn’t have considered otherwise.
I’ve gotten very picky with what we keep
Whereas I had a scarcity mindset at the start of the experiment, holding on to everything, afraid I may need it at some point, I am now very picky about what I keep and generous with what I give away. My wardrobe has been hugely reduced in size.
Whenever I am given clothes I don’t want or go through my clothes to reduce the amount I have, I always offer them to people or take them to clothes swaps before donating them to thrift stores. Although thrift stores are great, the majority of things from them end up in a landfill.
Instead of shopping as a form of me-time, I now go for walks and hikes, spending time in nature with my dog. You can’t just ban something and not replace it. We all need our own respite methods, and I’ve found more time for the things I love by creating space with my clothes buy ban.
What I do about underwear is a question I often get asked. My mom actually bought me a pack of underwear during the first year because she was worried I wouldn’t have enough.
The first time I received an offer of underwear from someone I knew, I accepted but didn’t tell many people I had. This quiet acceptance continued for a couple of years, but by the third year, I wasn’t embarrassed to tell people I wore used underwear.
I don’t have an endpoint in mind
People also ask me how to do this type of ban if there are weight changes. I’ve had a 40-pound weight swing, needing new-to-me clothing to fit my changing body. But the different sizes aren’t coming from a store.
I’ve considered breaking my ban a couple of times, thinking about what I would buy, but I have yet to think of something worth buying.
Recently, I needed black leggings — mine were very worn. Someone then put three pairs up on the Buy Nothing Facebook group. They weren’t the exact size or style I would have chosen, but I’m flexible and gratefully accepted them. I’m not a woo-woo manifester, but I do think the universe has shown up when I needed something.
Although I don’t have an endpoint in mind, there may come a day when I need to buy new. It’ll need to be worth it, and the purchase will need to either be from a thrift store or a carefully vetted company that is both sustainable and ethical.
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