Low-buy year reflections – the unexpected lessons I learned (hint: it is about way more than just the money)
Why a low-buy year?
I decided late in 2020 that I was going to take the challenge of doing a low-buy year for 2021. Before seeing a video on YouTube by Use Less, I hadn't even heard of the concept. Upon hearing about it though, I was immediately intrigued and drawn to this idea: I've been attempting to slowly minimise my life over the past few years – mostly physical things, but non-physical things as well (although, those are stories for another time). This pull toward minimalism was mostly ignited by the fact that I am an expat: I currently live in Germany (and have for the past 6 years), but I will be soon returning back to my original home of Melbourne, Australia.
We've brought two little lives into this world since moving to Germany and, as such, have acquired a lot of stuff (even though I have tried my hardest to stem the flow!). At the end of 2019 I was just starting the third trimester of my second pregnancy. I don't know where it was coming from – perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, or that there were little hints that 2020 was not going to be an ordinary year – but I really felt the pull to consume. Mostly in the form of secondhand clothing. This continued on well into 2020, especially when I was up in the wee hours of the morning feeding my newborn. I remember I would scroll and scroll on ebay as a way to keep myself awake during feeding sessions – it turns out that dopamine is even better than caffeine at keeping me awake!
I got to the middle of 2020, and I just felt icky. There was constantly a package arriving for me and, because of the pandemic preventing me from leaving the apartment most days, I really wasn't wearing many of the clothes I had lusted after and then bought. Their presence was actually making me feel sad that I would never get to wear them because it felt like life wouldn’t get back to normal. So, I decided that enough was enough: I was going to try a low-buy year for 2021, and make it my mission to prevent any more clothes entering my wardrobe.
What were the rules of my low-buy year?
As I was really focussing in on reigning in my clothing-buying habits, the 'rules' were pretty simple. (I really didn't buy that much else, aside from the everyday necessities and eBooks – which I don't really try to limit; books are life, after all!).
I basically decided that I would try to limit the buying of any clothes (including: shoes, accessories etc) throughout 2021.
I didn't really set out any exceptions at the outset, figuring I would just deal with each specific case of wanting to buy a clothing item as (or if) they cropped up.
Was I 'successful' in not buying many/any clothes?
Well, yes! Here are the only clothing items I bought in 2021:
Some new bras and bottoms (this was out of necessity, as things changed once I stopped breastfeeding my second son).
2 x Jeans (one dark blue and one black) – these were to replace old, worn out pairs, so I decided this was okay. Both were secondhand (if you are in Germany and you want to read about my favourite places to shop secondhand online, you can head here). These are also what I consider wardrobe staples: I wear dark skinny jeans almost every day.
2 x Jumpers (one was replacing an old one) – but I've since re-sold these, deciding that, in the end, I didn't really need them. Both were secondhand.
What I realised + learned by doing a low-buy year
Insight 1: I don't really need that many clothes.
Once I decided not to bring anything new in, I began to see my existing clothes in a different light. Surprisingly, not buying more clothes actually inspired me to remove items that I didn't like, didn't fit me, and I didn't wear. I've ended up with a really stream-lined wardrobe – full of pieces I absolutely love, fit my current body perfectly, and in colours that mix and match well. When everything item is perfect and wearable, I've found that I don't really need that much (because my wardrobe is no longer bloated with 'fake' options – eg it may look like I have 8 pairs of jeans, but if I only ever wear 4 of them, then the other 4 aren't 'real' options and are merely taking up space). In fact, I still feel like I could whittle down my wardrobe even more: I've now actually built up a pretty good habit of regularly assessing what I have and what I still like and really need, and what would be best being sold or donated.
An exercise I found really helpful in determining which items I actually wear was to make a wardrobe inventory, and then take note of when I wore each item. After doing this for a month or a season, it was difficult to justify holding onto items that I never wore during that time.
Insight 2: I could get much more out of what I already had.
I've always cared for my clothes quite well – I never leave them on the floor for instance (unlike my husband!) – but I think my low-buy year prompted me to care for my clothes even better: I reduced washing as much as possible – wool jumpers really don't need to be washed very often. Spot stain removal and using a steamer to sanitise 'dirty' areas can go a long way. I also don't own a dryer and hang-dry outside year round (remembering to turn my clothes inside-out in the summer to prevent fading).
I got better at hand-sewing to fix holes, mend seams, and the like.
I also discovered new ways of wearing my clothes: different combinations, tucking, tying, rolling up sleeves, wearing the same item in multiple ways (a cardigan can be worn undone, buttoned up, and even back to front for some variation).
I encountered many fun ways to alter clothes: I've changed the buttons on shirts, I've seen people convert jeans into shorts, and much more.
Insight 3: I’ve discovered (or rediscovered) what my style is (and really, what my identity is).
I've thought a lot about the colours I wear often and what suits me, and now have a loose colour palette for my wardrobe – black, beige, navy blue, dark green, rusty red. Most items are one of these colours. This makes putting together outfits easy: pretty much everything can be worn with every other item, and it also makes decision-making processes easy: I will never buy something that is pink, or orange, even if I like the style.
I've also extended this approach to styles of clothing (the wardrobe journal really helped with this). I know I am most comfortable wearing mid to high-waisted dark denim skinny jeans, for instance. Therefore, all the tops I have must go with these bottoms.
I rediscovered my love of expressing my identity and being creative with my style. This is so much easier now that I have a clear idea of what my style is – and what I'm all about. It sort of goes hand-in-hand with my career change: when I was a scientist working in the lab I wouldn't want to wear all my nice things and risk chemicals being spilled on them (and things such as sandals were prohibited anyway). Now I have more freedom, and I'm enjoying that freedom and also that it allows me to enjoy my old clothes again.
Insight 4: I don't really need that much of anything.
Minimising my clothes (and stemming the flow of new incoming things through the low-buy year) has made me realise how nice it is to be a curator of a collection instead of an owner of everything. When I have a beautifully curated collection of things I love, I don't need anything else. I don't even need to keep the stuff I have currently, forever. I've become so much less attached to things.
I’ve also discovered that the same principles that apply to clothing – having a small curated collection allows for better use of what you have – really applies to everything, from mugs to towels, even to sentimental items. This has been quite revolutionary for me, and has sent me on a mission to continue reducing my possessions until I feel like they are a beautifully curated collection.
Insight 5: I had actually been seeking novelty, not new clothes.
I didn’t really realise this until well afterwards, but I think what I was craving when I was pregnant and in the months after was novelty, not new clothes. During my pregnancy, I was sick and tired of wearing maternity clothes and, quite frankly, sick and tired of my pregnant self. Afterwards, I felt restricted by being at home all day and night, looking after a baby (with the addition of the pandemic, adding a big dose of that Groundhog day feeling). I didn’t really need, or necessarily even want, new clothes, I just wanted the thrill of something new full stop. Which leads me on to my next realisation...
Insight 6: There are other ways to find novelty – transforming from consumer to creator.
I realised I had been searching for novelty in new clothes, and that there are many other ways to scratch this itch. Seemingly coincidentally, my low-buy year of 2021 coincided with my return to writing. Looking back now, I think the two were actually intrinsically related: without spending energy and time seeking novelty through buying clothes, I found I needed to find it somewhere else. I happened to come back to writing for many reasons – which you can read all about here – but it really did fill in this hole that was left in my life by not getting my ‘dopamine fix’ from buying things. I found that the more I wrote, the less time and desire I had for trawling the internet in search of things to buy. I began to feel that not only did I not need anything, but I also didn’t want to waste my time searching for things. I had better things to do now. And better ways to invite novelty into my life.
Insight 7: Deprivation is good (even if it’s short-lived).
Another thing that I did toward the end of 2021 was to complete the The Artist’s Way creativity course as part of an accountability group (which you can read all about here, over on Sincerely, Spain’s blog). One of the week’s of the twelve week course involves having a reading deprivation week. Now, reading is life to me, and I really didn’t think I would be able to do it. I seriously questioned how I would be able to fall asleep without reading fiction before bed. But, I did it and it had the most amazing affect: I ended up swapping out reading for writing – specifically journalling, stream-of-consciousness type writing. I ended up having so many creative break-throughs that week that I don’t think would have been possible without the reading deprivation.
As I mentioned in the second point, depriving myself of buying new clothes actually made me use the clothes I already have more. What appeared initially like a bad thing – depriving myself of what I like and enjoy and get pleasure from – actually turned out to lead to more abundance in different ways. Through my low-buy year and reading deprivation week I realised that deprivation can lead to the kicking-in of my creativity and in ways that I would never have thought possible.
Insight 8: The ultimate benefit of my low-buy year – It allowed me to take a writing retreat year.
As I alluded to in the beginning, although I had found myself in a position where I was buying a lot of clothes in the lead up to what ended up being my low-buy year, because I was buying secondhand clothing, it wasn’t as if I was spending a ton of money (although, small purchases do add up!). So, my low-buy year wasn’t so much focussed on saving a lot of money. The change in my mindset about consumption, however, did have ripple effects over my whole life: I became much more conscious about everything I did buy, well-beyond clothes. That change in attitude meant that we got our overall spending way down, could save more, and we could happily live on my husband’s pay for the year.
I didn’t necessarily intend to take this year ‘off’ full-time work outside of the home – let’s just say one thing led to another and it ended up that way (you can read all about my ongoing career change here – but having our spending down to the bare minimum meant that we had no financial woes, I didn’t have to rush out to get another job, and I could spend some time focussing on my writing. I think of it as my writing retreat year – a little time out of regular working life where I could be creative, and not have to worry about making money from my writing. So, I consider this to be the ultimate benefit of my low-buy year, and one that I would never have predicted beforehand.
I hope you enjoyed reading about the lessons I learned through my low-buy year. If you are drawn to the idea, I would urge you to give it a shot! If a year feels too daunting, you could start from anywhere: a month, a week, even a day. I think you will be amazed by what you discover.
Tell me: Are you interested in a trying a no-buy or low-buy year? Or, have you tried one before? Leave your thoughts and ideas in the comments below.
Need some more inspiration for setting up your own low-buy year? Here are some resources I found helpful:
Use Less YouTube channel: Signe has a whole bunch of wonderful videos about fashion, minimalism, and using more of what you have. She was the inspiration for me trying out a low-buy year myself.
Similarly, Alyssa Beltempo has a fantastic YouTube channel concerned with ‘more creativity’ and ‘less consumption’. Her styling videos about using items from your own wardrobe have been a game-changer for me.
And, if you are interested in Minimalism, I have to recommend the book Goodbye Things by Fumio Sasaki. It’s incredibly readable and full of anecdotes from a man who has gone from (quite a) maximalist to a minimalist (ie not someone who was ‘perfect’ to begin with!). Loads loads of very practical tips, mixed with quite a philosophical approach.
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