As you may or may not know, Jslow and I are huge fans of Farfetch, a site that aggregates all of the most edgy, indie, high-end boutiques around the world into one shoppable super-mall. We’ve found many of our favorite pieces on Farfetch, and have linked to them loads of times over the past few years. So we were thrilled when they asked us to post a guide to their “Definitive Coats of the Season” which is below.
To be honest, their prices can be scarier than florescent dressing room lights after a large lunch, and induce hives and heavy sweating, but get this, ladies,
It’s worth it. And I have proof.
The Atlantic Monthly recently ran a story, titled, “The Case for Expensive Clothes”, with the subhead,
“Spending significant money on each piece of clothing means seeing a purchase as an investment, not a cheap (and exploitative) thrill.”
Here, the author, based on his income and financial situation, set a goal of $150 as the least he would spend on any particular item: Enough to make him truly consider the purchase, think hard about if he truly needed and loved it, enough to make him sweat. Not only does this mean he’s building a wardrobe of high quality pieces he loves that he’ll have forever, but it also means he won’t be contributing to the serial sins of fast fashion: low-cost, low-quality clothing produced in dangerous factories by poorly paid workers, only to be discarded in mass quantities, harming the environment.
He says this about his $150 minimum goal:
“…It’s enough that it causes me to seriously hesitate, which is the real point. It forces me to think about just how much I want that item of clothing, how much I’ll wear it, and whether I think the value it offers is worth a significant cost. Importantly, $150 is also enough that I can’t make these purchases all the time, at least not without sacrificing elsewhere or going broke.”
“It’s an investment, rather than the cheap buzz of getting something new.”
I’ve been doing a massive purge of late, getting rid of anything I don’t love, anything that doesn’t make me feel fucking “fierce”, anything that I take a split second too much time to consider to put on. And you know what? My shrinking closet contains items I bought ten to twenty years ago: My first Rick Owens piece, a paper-thin leather blazer jacket; Bruno Frisoni fuchsia open-toe pumps (that I got married in, pictured below), Chanel lucite platform sandals, Ann Demeulemeester slouchy strappy boots, and Preen tweed trousers. They all continue to bring me joy every time I put them on, and I can’t imagine ever parting with any of them. Ever.
So check out the Farfetch coats below. Yes, the price-tags may cause you early onset Menopause, but those hot flashes can be good for you. Sweating over a purchase is healthy, and can really make you think how much you really need or want it, about the investment, and that always critical “cost-per-wear” formula, and the dividends it may bring for years to come.
We’re not advocating reckless spending by any means. But try this: add up the total cost of the last 10 pieces you bought and ask yourself: Did you need them all? Do you love them? Now tally that total and use that as your budget for your next purchase of one item. In this fast paced, fast fashion, fast everything world we live in, this will not easy, and I know this first hand as I am the worst. But I’m trying really hard. And since I’ve been pushing to sweat every purchase, I’m happier and so is my closet – it doesn’t explode like Phineas J. Whoopee’s when he tries to retrieve his 3DBB (excuse the obscure Tennessee Tuxedo cartoon reference!)
And remember a few things: one, prices fall dramatically after Thanksgiving and two, you can use this for inspiration in finding something else at a less far-fetched price — but nothing less than $150.