Towards the Lagenlook Style – becoming weird in order to keep sanity intact
Imagine donating all of your clothes to charity and not buying anything new for a year.
As strange as it may sound, it really happened to me.
Well, I wasn’t left with nothing at all. 3 pairs of trousers, 3 sweaters and several white, elegant blouses (not including a few items to wear at home).
In my last post I started to weave a story about my journey from a wardrobe chaos towards my own unique style called Lagenlook. I stopped at the point when I decided to take a decisive action and get rid of anything I truly didn’t need which turned out to be almost all of my clothes.
While I was packing my past away I came to an amazing realisation – I felt emotionally detached from my possessions despite being very sentimental and generally attached to things. Perhaps it was my determination, a strong need for a drastic change? Or simply being fed up with the hotchpotch.
Now I can’t even remember what I gave away exactly. Those items have never been missed. I closed my nearly empty wardrobe as you close a finished chapter in your life.
You have no idea how liberating the experience was. I enjoyed the simplicity of my new style. The morning choice was so easy and quick, my mind appreciated the idleness.
I craved for nothing I saw at shops. Partially because I loved the sense of order but mostly because I still didn’t know what I wanted or who I was. Sometimes I dreaded the thought that I might never find my true self and such a scarce wardrobe would stay with me forever showing that I was as empty as my wardrobe was.
Months passed quickly. One day my husband gave me Ł 50 and literally forced me to go for a fancy dress hunting. His sister’s 20th Wedding Anniversary was coming up and a nice dress was a must.
After a few hours of fruitless prowling, walking from shop to shop feeling like a zombie in a candy store, my mood dropped even more. Nothing suited my nonexistent taste. Disheartened and depressed I was resting on a bench in Chester Cathedral garden.
And then I suddenly remembered one place that used to glue me to its window displays every time I was passing by. Amazing ‘rag doll’ style as I used to call it. I’d been there just once shortly after I’d come to Chester. Looking at the prices I knew I’d never dare to go in again but I always admired the displays.
The shop was called ‘Morgan’, situated in the heart of Chester. I knew I couldn’t afford anything they were selling but I went there purely for inspiration. I decided to stay until I understood the phenomenon of such a unique style.
And there I was, struck with amazement at the door. I was moving from garment to garment with a silly smile, memorizing every detail – creased, asymmetrical, vintage-looking, layered, full of frills and lace, in natural colours.
I left the shop inspired, elevated, excited. It was a real epiphany. In that very moment I knew exactly what I wanted. I saw a mirror reflection of myself in those clothes.
I frantically raided every charity shop in town and spent the Ł 50 on items I could achieve a similar effect with. I never bought the dress I was supposed to. I put together a simple but romantic outfit out of the things I’d bought and I looked nice enough.
Now 95% of my wardrobe content comes from charity shops which also helps not to feel so guilty for a bit of vanity. I also make alterations myself in order to save money. I’ve bought a few garments by Made in Italy which is a quite affordable brand. My favourite designer is Ewa Iwalla but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to buy her clothes. Nevertheless I’ve got a great deal of satisfaction constructing my outfits myself .
And that’s how my wardrobe began its transformation into a treasure chest.
PS. The photo – Shabby Mummy: Quite a simple outfit. I added a white lace ribbon trim to these cropped jeans. The tunic has a beautiful Richelieu motif on the front. And the boots look like the ones worn by chimney sweeps long time ago, don’t they?