Buying with intention is.
Fashion has a quality problem, and it’s not just fast fashion. Even luxury houses quietly cut corners to keep margins healthy and shareholders smiling. Fabrics feel thinner. Construction feels rushed. Prices, of course, do the opposite. Buying cheap feels wrong. Buying expensive often feels foolish. And yet, we still want new things. We don’t want to abstain. We want to reward ourselves. Change silhouettes. Adjust moods. Reinvent, slightly, regularly.
The idea of buying “for life” is a comforting lie. We don’t actually want eternity. We want now. We want newness, but not sameness. Off-the-rack clashes with our obsession for individuality, while luxury, by definition, isn’t meant to be purchased repeatedly. Especially not when the quality no longer justifies the promise.
Of course, we tell ourselves we care about the environment. At least in theory. Sales numbers suggest otherwise. Fashion is still growing, still producing, still selling. So we escape into second hand. It’s cheaper, sometimes better made, and lets us buy one level up without the guilt. The explosion of resale stores in major cities isn’t a trend. It’s a response.
Do we need new clothes? Yes.
Do we need newly produced ones? Rarely.
New isn’t the enemy. Carelessness is.
My rule is simple: I wait three to four weeks. If I still want it, I buy it. If it’s gone by then, it probably didn’t need me. And I didn’t need it either.