Monday, ugh. It’s 7.48am and you’re already late. You desperately need a piccolo latte and a hug. Quick, where’s your failsafe linen shirt? Nowhere to be found. You pull out the first wrinkle-free backup you see, scoop your pants off the floordrobe before emerging into the outside world. It’s no wonder that this can sometimes go terribly wrong. Like the time you chose black drainpipes studded with remnants of last night’s cinema choc-top. Or walked out of the house without a coat in the middle of winter.
Decision fatigue & fast fashion
We have too many choices. Psychologists call this “decision fatigue” and the more decisions we make during a day, the worse our choices become. After a taxing day, judges are noted for setting harsher sentences in the afternoon.
We also have too many clothes. Clothing has become our drug of choice. It’s a cheap quick high, this season’s new colour for $14.99, destined to last six washes before landing in the bin. So dazzled are we by the low prices and rainbow displays we forget the trail of destruction all this production leaves in its wake: deforestation, sweatshops, child-labour.
At present an easy solution is opaque. Cotton is proving tricky to recycle in the way that old Russh magazines can be. Unlike paper, cotton doesn’t like being shredded and mashed down, it actually degrades the fibres. When cotton recycling does occur, a low 20% is used, otherwise clothes fail to pass quality control tests. It’s a perfect storm wrapped in tissue paper.
Outfit paralysis
New York-based art director Matilda Kahl has a solution to everyday outfit paralysis: the work uniform. Despite working in advertising, where a lumberjack shirt and high-tops don’t turn a head in the boardroom, Kahl limited herself to black pants, white silk shirts, black leather jacket and a custom-made leather necklace for “a personal touch” for three years. Count them: three.
Kahl has cannily noted that a work uniform isn’t a novel concept, dryly stating that men “have embraced this way of dressing for years—they call it a suit”. Indeed, several of the world’s busiest people are known for their repetitive wardrobes. Think the late Steve Jobs with his black turtlenecks and dad jeans. Mark Zuckerberg’s hoodies. Even Barack Obama can teach us a lesson in presidential productivity, limiting himself to grey or navy suits, in his words: “Because I have too many other decisions to make”.
Kahl likens her work uniform to the auto-pay of online bills. In a fast-paced world where we’re looking for the next high-value, low-effort time-saving hack, fashion is the new hallowed ground.
My life isn’t dissimilar to Kahl. I also work in a position I can ascribe the catch-all word “creative”. My days are packed and I have the freedom to wear what I want. Except I really like fashion. Could I wear the same thing every day?
I don’t have three years to test this theory, but I do have three weeks. So for the next three weeks, I’m going to wear the same thing to work. Like Kahl, I’ll wear whatever I want on weekends. I’ll follow Kahl’s rules: consistent colours and jewellery, with optional coat for chilly days, plus black shoes, whether loafers or pumps.
Instead of classic black and white (because it reminds me too much of my checkout chick days) I’ve chosen the Steve Jobs aka black knit and blue jeans.
I’m going into this experiment with a few questions:
Will it get me out of the house faster, and reduce outfit paralysis?
Will I want to maintain this and reduce my clothing footprint?
Will I get bored wearing the same thing everyday?
Will anyone even notice?
Let the experiment begin.
The work uniform experiment
Week 1
Day 1
My chosen outfit is waiting for me on the sofa having been lovingly laid out the night before. Life feels easy and sweet.
Day 2
Deja blue. I’m already trying to be ‘creative’ within the rules I’ve set by choosing a knit vest that isn’t a turtleneck at all. But it’s still black, okay?
Day 3
Fine. I’ll continue this experiment with the proviso of any black top. The erratic spring weather is to blame.
Day 4
Spent in bed with a hay fever induced headache banger. In the late afternoon I emerge to go painkiller shopping. I decide, as I’m home, it’s technically the weekend and choose to wear what I want. #blissedout
Day 5
I made it through a whole week. Okay, technically four days. Though, no one has noticed. Or they’re just not saying anything.
Week 2
Day 6
It’s Monday, and I take comfort in knowing exactly what to wear. I’m out of the house a full 20 minutes faster than usual. Work uniform: 1, outfit paralysis: 0.
Day 7
Something odd has happened. I’ve resigned myself to my uniform, and I’m actually liking (kind-of) how easy it is to get dressed in the morning.
Day 8
Hump day. Actually having a set uniform made it a little better, and even though I rolled out of bed a full 20 minutes later (snooze button) I still made it to work right on time. This uniform thing, huh?
Day 9
My enlightenment has dissolved into deja blue again.
Day 10
I work around my deja blue with a different black top that my mum would call “skimpy” considering the brisk weather.
Week 3
Day 11
It’s nice to wake up knowing what you’ll be wearing.
Day 12
Today my heart sinks a bit. I feel grateful and resentful at the same time. I feel like Alex de Large, horrified that something I love (my Swedish designer blue jeans) is making me forever associate it with the drudgery of work.
Day 13
Umm, still no-one has noticed I’ve been wearing the same thing for basically three weeks. Who are these people? Robots?
Day 14
Oops, too many drinks last night. I’m grateful for my work uniform.
Day 15
I made it. I’m going to wear this to work for the rest of my life!
The Results
Spoiler, I don’t. However, the experiment wasn’t a complete loss. Instead of wearing 20% of the black tops I own, I used all of them. Instead of wasting precious pre-caffeinated brain power obsessing over what I wore, each day became easier.
For now I’ve shelved the idea of a rigid work uniform. I crave a little freedom each day although the habit of laying out your clothes the night before – just like mum made you do in school – is a pretty smart idea. Plus variance, if it’s just for the people around you is overrated. No one cares. Instead, I’ve adopted a series of repetitive daily uniforms (Black Monday, Blue Tuesday, White Wednesday…) with a free pass on Fridays. And the next time I try to buy another black top, somebody stop me.
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Take action
Are there clothes hiding in your wardrobe that you no longer use? We bet there are.
Dress for Success Sydney is a registered charity that provides second-hand professional attire to women in need in preparation for job interviews. They need your high-quality duds, and you get a step closer to peace of mind.
