I've tried on a number of different versions of myself over the years. Remnants of those selves have stayed with me and added to me, while others have become clutter. My project for this year has been to shed (peel off, not store) the things that no longer serve me and make room for what does. The easiest place to start is with clothing.

You know the adage, dress for the job you want. Here is one time when I think general is better than specific: dress for what you want. This doesn’t mean, wear what you want. It means making choices that manifest who you want to be to yourself and others.

The Capsule Wardrobe: Everything goes with everything.

You already see the problem here, right? I’ve tried the capsule wardrobe. A few times. For work--I bought navy pants, black pants, a couple jackets, and a few shells to go under jackets. Black shoes. Brown shoes. And some necklaces that looked like what everyone else in the office was wearing.

It was just as miserable as that paragraph.

I tried to add this other layer onto what I already had without considering what I already had. I looked at my work as a piece of me that wasn’t even me--it was this thing that needed to be kept in its own place and shouldn’t be influenced by or affect any other part of how I saw myself. I made the work capsule wardrobe a pill for what others wanted that I tried to swallow.

But the idea of “encapsulating” who I am--expressing my essential features succinctly--through clothing still draws me.

The Ten-Item Wardrobe: Free up your time for much worthier pursuits.

I stumbled upon Jennifer L. Scott’s Tedx talk on YouTube while searching for something to watch while unloading the dishwasher as a reward for unloading the dishwasher. Yay, me! She shares (actually, built a career with) a lesson she learned during a study abroad year in France: The Ten-Item wardrobe. While I do get a little turned-off by the French-women-always-look-so-polished cliche, her insight that choosing clothing that reflects who you are and what you do with your time resonates with enough people that she has three books, a Tedx talk, and a blog that boasts almost 8 million visitors.

Twice a year (Spring/Summer & Fall/Winter), Jennifer builds her wardrobe around a core of 10 or so foundational items--pants, skirts, dresses, blouses. In addition to this core, she has “extras” such as cardigans, scarfs, tee-shirts, and leggings to complement and accessorize her 10-ish core items. The trick is to keep the “capsule mindset” about the extras as well as about the core pieces--don’t have 10 core items and then 50 tee-shirts and 25 pairs of leggings in the extras. She wears her Ten-Item wardrobe for its season then puts it away until the same time, next year. She looks forward to seeing and wearing the same clothes (with some updates) each year.

Her 10-Item Wardrobe doesn’t have rules for color, style, or really even number. 10 is an easy number, but you can have more (or less). It’s not a mix-n-match wardrobe; it’s not all neutrals. The object of the Ten-Item Wardrobe is to eliminate confusion. Most simply, The Ten-Item wardrobe makes it much easier to get dressed every day--you have 10 items to choose from! More profoundly, The Ten-Item wardrobe makes clear who you are to yourself.

JE SUIS PREST (if you don’t get this reference, don’t worry about it)

As I was listening to her Tedx talk and watching her online course (it was worth $5), I was struck by her use of the word “presentable.” She emphasizes that The Ten-Item Wardrobe helps her be “presentable” at all times. This word reflects an undercurrent in her program of propriety, modesty, and decency that I am just going to ignore. Every time she says “presentable” in her videos, I take a vodka shot, smack my husband on the butt,  and replace the word with “prepared.” The Ten-Item Wardrobe allows you to be prepared at all times.

As you may know, I recently started teaching at a college that is a 15-minute walk from my house. With the unpredictable Chicago winter coming up, I sent a message to the adjunct faculty coordinator reminding her that I live very close and can always get to the campus on foot.  If faculty cannot make it to campus but classes are being held, I can likely be there to cover. So each morning I need to be prepared. I can’t say I can be on campus in a pinch if it takes me an hour to get ready for my 15-minute walk. I’ve resolved to use The Ten-Item wardrobe to make sure I put on clothes that prepare me to be in the classroom each day. Je Suis Prest.

I'm confused. This isn't me.

Curating a Ten-Item wardrobe takes years. My Ten-Items are really about 50 items right now. But a couple weeks ago it was hundreds and most of it was confusing and not me. This morning, even though I have no plans to leave my house on this rainy Chicago Monday, I put on an outfit. Real clothes. I reached for a pair of olive green pants that I love and had two immediate thoughts: 1. I shouldn’t wear these because they are nice and I like them and I’m just working from home. Followed closely by 2. I should buy another pair of olive green pants since I like these so much. So, logically, I should buy more of these pants that I won’t let myself wear OR I should buy more of these pants so that when I reach for the olive pants I love I don’t know which ones to wear and end up wearing something else that I like less. Go away, Gemini, you're drunk. I put on the pants.