You Bought 68 Items Of Clothing Last Year
When it comes to your personal style—it's not helping
Our overstuffed closets are suffocating us. We've never owned more clothes and had less style. There are political, economic, environmental problems at play, but for a moment, let’s just consider our overconsumption’s implications on our sense of self when it comes to getting dressed.
In the 1960s, the average American household purchased 25 items of clothing per year. From 2000 to 2014, the number of clothing items purchased per capita increased by 60%. Now, the average household purchases 68 items of clothing and these items are kept half as long. An estimated 85% of textiles end up in landfills each year.
We’re left overwhelmed by decision fatigue before our days even begin, standing wrapped in a towel faced by the very modern dilemma of too many clothes and nothing to wear. The antidote I’m proposing isn’t minimalism or total abstinence. But moderation and intention. Or in other words, restraint and repetition.
Personal style is not frivolous. Time spent understanding how to present ourselves authentically is in direct correlation to feeling confident, purposeful, and alive. Picture a closet rod bowing under the weight of unworn clothes—our innate sense of style is trending precipitously downward.
Fast fashion isn't solely to blame for our style crisis, but it plays a central role. Nothing about our current shopping habits is stylish—from the mindless scrolling through thousands of options, to the dopamine hit of checkout, to what our bulging closets ultimately symbolize.
In 1930, the average American woman owned 9 outfits.
It wasn’t a question of which wool coat with faux fur cuffs to don in the January chill. Likely, you had one coat that worked well for each season. And instead of scrutinizing all eleven of your mini skirts, you had two or three that you loved. Getting dressed wasn’t an anxiety-inducing conundrum. Clothes carried memories. And you were familiar with all of the narratives hanging in your closet.
Most people only wear 20% of their wardrobe regularly.
We feel disconnected from our closets. The 20% in question represents the pieces that have survived our decision fatigue. These are the pieces that feel like us. They’ve earned their place—no matter if they came to us as a hand-me-down or a sample sale find or a gift from someone who passed. The other 80% we save for some hypothetical someday. Does your closet reflect your dream life or your real life?
Americans throw away about 81 pounds of clothing per person annually.
Our unworn closet speaks to the liminal space between expectation and reality. We change our lives all the time, but do our closets change with them? We’re not just filling landfills with rash decisions and consumeristic bandaids, we’re holding ourselves back from finding clothes to carry with us in our commitment to fewer, better pieces.
The average garment is worn 7-10 times before being discarded.
We’re casually dating our clothes, only to ghost them indefinitely. There’s a creativity in limitation, a feeling you might get when you travel and only have a certain number of ways to wear a single sweater. It helps us develop a relationship to the items we own. And this makes us feel confident, inspired, even at home in the familiarity of our closet.
Remember this next time you feel inspired to shop: fast fashion promises endless possibilities. True style invites you into earnest self reflection. It speaks in conversations with friends, a stranger passing you on the street, a photo of your aunt hanging on the wall, not in algorithms or microtrends.
Sartorial abundance isn’t true freedom. It’s in limitation that we find our most authentic expression.
Honorable Mentions
Lenny sources and fits vintage denim to you. I’m obsessed? And need to try to report back to you all.
Two women I love—my CPA and older cousin—launched their Substacks this week. Go to Dumb Rich for the coolest money talks and Esthetically for skincare 101.
This silk blend tshirt wears really well with trousers. I replaced a tiny one I’d had since high school. (Use ERIKA15)
Gel that doesn’t feel like gel for a girl who doesn’t like gel. And an exfoliator for someone who doesn’t remember to exfoliate. You following?
Thank you for reading Long Live. It means so much to me. You can shop my favs here, follow along on Instagram + Tiktok, and shop my Notion template. Get matched at EV Salon. And if you want to partner on a future Long Live, email evan@communite.co x
Thinking about the changing price of clothes: Sure, it's Vogue, but as per the BLS Inflation Calculator, that cashmere camisole costs $329 in today's dollars.
This is such an informative piece with a lot of food for thought! It's given me a desire to learn more about the history of getting dressed, and also ask my grandma about how she has gotten dressed throughout the years?