my clothing budget was $0

reflecting on my relationship to spending money on clothes

I was raised in a family without much money. My parents were labor organizers before I was born, my mom working and organizing in a sewing factory, and my dad working and organizing in a shipyard. My mom stopped working when I was born, and then had two more children, my sisters. My dad was seriously injured at work when I was 8 and wasn’t able to work after that. My mom went back to school to get her teaching certification and was the “breadwinner” (I put it in quotes because a teacher’s salary in Alabama in the 80’s wasn’t really winning much of anything) for the rest of my childhood.

My parents are amazing idealistic people. They wanted to teach us to have awareness about the world and what the lives of others were like, (which I also want to do with my children) but often the result was shame about having desires. I must have asked for things when I was a very small child, but I heard “we can’t afford it” so many times that at a certain point, I just stopped asking. It was rare to get anything new, and I remember many times being disappointed that I received a gift that came from a yard sale. On my 7th birthday, I had friends over for a party, and was embarrassed that I received a dollhouse kit that was obviously secondhand. It was still a big fancy dollhouse and I can imagine that my parents must have been so hopeful that I’d be really excited about it. We never put it together.

My parents also didn’t see value in anything aesthetic. Our furniture was old and mismatched, there was very little art on the walls, and they *really* didn’t care how clothes looked as long as they were functional. My clothes came from hand-me-downs, yard sales, and the clearance racks at Kmart or Sears.

Unfortunately, I grew up in the Deep South in the middle of a very status-conscious society. Conformity was paramount. Having the right thing (Tretorns, Guess jeans, and madras plaid belts, among others) was vital to being accepted. Kids were ruthless if you didn’t. The standard was an archetype of a southern girl: hair bows, monograms, smocking, blond hair. The combination of needing very specific items, my parents’ philosophy about spending money on clothes, and my brown curly hair meant that I never felt like I belonged.

My mom had grown up in California and her mom, my grandma, was the most stylish person I knew. She’d take me shopping when we visited. On those occasions, I felt intense pressure to choose the right thing because it would be my only chance all year to buy something new at full price. Somehow, I never did choose the right thing and even those purchases made in L.A. made me feel like I was weird compared to the other kids.

This jacket my grandma bought me (yes, I still own it) in the mid-80’s hit so hard in L.A., not so much in Alabama.

I’m not sure I ever experienced the feeling of liking my clothes until I was in high school and had a job and a little money to buy things for myself. A favorite outfit at the time was black and white striped tights under cutoff shorts with maroon velvet mary janes (it was the 90’s, y’all).

another peak 90’s outfit

When shopping, I always started at the sale rack. I really can’t remember one item I bought at full price until my 30’s. There was no budget because the goal was to spend $0 or as close to that as possible, and I felt guilty spending anything. Getting the cheapest price for something was the priority, not whether I liked it, which is why this piece by Ashley C Fordresonated with me so much.

“For a long time, I thought it was a superpower to not have preferences. When you grow up in poverty, there’s nothing in your mind that says, Even though I can’t get these things, I’m still worthy of them. The protective approach you develop is to NOT want anything. My family congratulated me for that: ‘Oh, Ashley, she’s so good, she’ll never make a fuss, she’ll be grateful for anything.’ I thought that made me a good person.”

My parents weren’t able to pay for college, so I worked multiple jobs throughout. By the time I got there, the grunge era had made thrifting cool and I was amazed at the options to be had. For once, I felt like I could shop freely without worrying about money, because it was all so cheap. I bought much more than I needed, just because I was excited by the fact that I could afford “nice” brands (which for me meant Banana Republic and J. Crew). My inner child wanted to finally belong and I bought things regardless of whether I’d actually wear them.

In 2013, after multiple career burnouts and years of serving as everyone in my life’s unofficial stylist, I started my personal styling business, mindful closet. My imposter syndrome was syndroming and I decided that buying and wearing designer clothes was going to be the thing that gave me authority. Until that point, when I bought a Diane von Furstenberg blouse on sale for $104, the most expensive item I’d ever bought was a BCBG skirt from the OG Filene’s Basement in Boston (pictured above). Unfortunately, the designer clothes I bought during this era are no longer with me because I was still prioritizing a bargain over whether I liked something.

the DVF blouse - I loved it! Unfortunately, it got a permanent stain and had to be retired. That baby is almost 11 now.

As my business grew and I started to find my ideal clients (ones who didn’t expect me to be an airbrushed Hollywood stylist), I gained more confidence. I felt less of a need to show status with my clothes, but I still had trouble spending on them. Prior to starting mindful closet, I worked as a freelance musician, a teacher, a box office salesperson, and an arts administrator (not including all the jobs I had through high school and college). The most I have ever earned until 2023 (2023!!!!) was $45,000/year. There were many years when spending money on clothes didn’t feel possible, especially the years when I barely worked because we didn’t have regular childcare for either of our children before the age of two. Ironically, having a clothing budget during that time (and since) was the only thing that actually gave me permission to buy clothes, because again, without that anything I spent was “over budget”.

Having said that, I have many financial privileges, and will never have to feel true financial stress because my family is my safety net. Currently, we are more privileged than most to be able to contribute to retirement and our kids’ college funds. We are also lucky to have a relatively good health care plan, but after other health care costs, taxes, insurance, food, bills, and kids’ activities (including thousands of dollars every summer for camp), there’s not much left over. Even though I’m not sure how it happens, every month our credit card bill is pretty equivalent to our take home income.

When I write it all out like this, although I’m in the best financial place I’ve ever been, I can see why I don’t spend much on clothing – 47 years of trying not to spend money has created a habit I no longer find helpful. While there’s a stereotype out there that women shop too much, what I’ve seen far more often is women restricting themselves from buying what they need (clothes that fit that they actually like), while making sure that everyone around them *does* have what they need.

My current clothing budget is $200 per month, but last year I only spent a third of that. As a stylist/style Substacker/person who loves clothes, should I be spending more? It depends. I’m finally at a place where I can allow myself to buy the things that spark joy, but I no longer feel the need to spend money just to impress others. I’m never going to spend frivolously, but this year I’m hoping to stop overthinking my purchases so much and allow myself to enjoy the process. We’ll see where that takes me.

P.S. This is such a big topic that I’m going to spend a bit of time on it. On Thursday, I want to hear your clothing budget stories. Next week, I’ll share some of my thoughts from my professional perspective on how much you might spend on clothing, and I have some interviews with personal finance experts (all Substack superstars! Pauline, Heather and Douglas Boneparth, Lindsey Stanberry and Dana Miranda, CEPF) on this topic that I can’t wait to share. Make sure you’re subscribed to get all the goods!