I Stopped Buying New Clothes for a Year

Here’s What I Learned (and Why You Might Want to Try It Too)

Every September, when my birthday rolls around, I feel deeply grateful for another year on earth with the people I love. At the same time, I also feel an urge to grow—to evolve in small, meaningful ways. I want my next trip around the sun to be an opportunity to know myself better and to leave the world a little better than I found it.

In the weeks leading up to my 37th birthday, four months postpartum with my fourth baby, I learned a staggering statistic: there are enough garments in existence right now to clothe the next six generations. That rattled me. I had already known about the mountains of discarded clothing visible from space, which had left me unsettled, but conceptualizing the excessiveness in terms of future generations struck a new chord.

I strive to approach the implications of my actions with great care and have difficulty ignoring things once I learn about them. So, for my 37th birthday, I committed to a year of no new clothes.

I already wasn’t a big shopper, and I was growing increasingly aware of the consequences of the textile industry—labor exploitation, chemical waste, pollution, and the waste of fast fashion and consumption as a whole. That said, I had still purchased my fair share of leggings and t-shirts and knew I had more than enough to sustain myself for the coming year.

Knowing why I wanted to commit to this challenge, I set a few guiding rules:

1. I could purchase clothing secondhand.

2. I could make my own clothing.

3. I could borrow clothing.

I also allowed myself to ask for clothing as gifts and to purchase clothing or accessories as souvenirs from concerts or travel if I felt compelled.

So, how did it go, what were my takeaways, and where am I at sixteen months later?

The First Few Months

The first few months were a learning process—resisting the impulse to buy something just because it was on sale and avoiding the temptation to order new professional attire for upcoming work events. But once I got past those initial habits, I was surprised by the benefits beyond just limiting consumption (and, okay, saving some money, too). Here are my biggest takeaways, top tips, and a few challenges I encountered.

The Good

Money saved—Let’s start with the obvious. By not buying new clothes, our bank account had more capacity for meaningful expenses—experiences with the kids, extra funds to give to causes and community efforts, buying a second car after four years as a one-car family, and funding our dream basement renovation.

Time saved—I hadn’t realized how much time I spent browsing sales emails, even when I wasn’t planning to buy anything. Ignoring them entirely saved me so much time—especially time spent on my phone. The decision not to shop was already made for me, so I could delete— or better yet, unsubscribe from— promotional emails without hesitation. And the longer I resisted the lure of sales, the less I cared about them. I also saved time in the overall shopping process— fewer new clothes and online shopping meant less trying on, washing, folding, organizing, and fewer returns.

Refining my wardrobe—With fewer new items coming in, it became clear what I actually wore and what I didn’t. It was much easier to parse out what I didn’t want to wear without the distractions of newer clothing items steadily flowing in. I purged three tubs worth of clothing that I hadn’t touched in years, and my personal style became more defined in the process.

Defining my style—Shopping secondhand exposed me to a wider range of styles rather than just the trend-of-the-moment at Target, Old Navy, Madewell, etc. I brought piles of clothes into the dressing room at consignment shops, thinking they’d work for me, and most did not. But through that process, I learned what truly fits, feels good on my body, and flatters me, rather than letting an influencer with a different body type than me or a retailer with a narrow definition of style dictate my wardrobe. And I enjoy curating a wardrobe that has longevity and feels timeless.

The thrill of secondhand finds—I discovered that finding the perfect secondhand piece is a bigger dopamine hit than opening an overstuffed mailer of slightly ill-fitting Old Navy items. And scoring a $400 pair of jeans for $15 was an unexpected joy! I also went on more shopping dates with friends, and I found I much preferred the experience of secondhand shopping over mindlessly scrolling online sales for the next quick hit of dopamine.

It started conversations—I’ve had so many meaningful discussions—both online and in real life—about this challenge. When someone compliments my outfit, I love sharing that it’s secondhand and I love playing a role in the changing narrative.

Less clutter— Another obvious one but less of anything means less to deal with, less clutter and overstuffed drawers, and more ease with getting dressed and going about my day.

I pulled out my sewing machine—I didn’t sew as much as I’d hoped, but the few times I did felt satisfying. Even better? It inspired my six-year-old to ask for a sewing machine for Christmas. Teaching him to sew and share the joy of making something by hand has been a welcome and unexpected reward.

I feel proud— Every small action we take in our lives makes a difference. In the end, the sacrifice was marginal, but by reducing the demand for new clothing, I feel proud to be on the right track towards limiting my waste and consumption.

The Challenges

My height—At 5’10”, finding secondhand clothing that fits my long arms, torso, and legs was a tad tricky. This experience reinforced that learning to make alterations (or even sew my own clothes) will be a powerful tool for me moving forward. Turning to online secondhand retailers that offer a wider selection could also be a great solution for this.

Navigating my postpartum body—At six months postpartum, my body was still adjusting. Now that I’m past my pregnancy and postpartum years, I’m excited to hone in on what truly feels good. In hindsight, I wish I had relied more on secondhand shopping during pregnancy and postpartum, as many of the items I bought during those seasons were so short-lived.

Intentional shopping takes time—We’re used to the instant gratification of online shopping, even if it means accepting ill-fitting clothes rather than dealing with returns. Shopping secondhand requires purposeful effort (rather than passive and sometimes even mindless efforts— wait, how did I end up on this website with a $200 cart full of athleisure?!)—going to a consignment shop, trying things on, and finding key pieces—but it ultimately saved me time in the long run.

Top Tips

Know your why—Your reason doesn’t have to be complex. Mine was simple: there are enough garments in production to clothe six future generations. I won’t be around to interact with those generations, but they will know the impact of our current efforts, and I want to be part of the solution and know that my efforts are paving the way for a brighter future.

Make it fun—Go secondhand shopping with friends, watch YouTube thrifting videos, dust off your sewing machine, host a clothing swap, and read books about personal style and capsule wardrobes. There are tons of wonderful resources online to garner inspiration from and community makes everything better.

Be gentle with yourself—Hard and fast rules can be motivating for some and discouraging for others, know what works for you. I bought a few sweatshirts as travel souvenirs and a bookstore baseball cap, and I didn’t let myself feel guilty about it. Sustainability is about balance, not perfection.

Gamify it—If you love tracking progress, use a journal or chart. Or set milestone rewards—treat yourself to a facial or a trip to the nail salon with the money saved as you celebrate your progress.

Find pieces you truly love—I have a favorite black dress. I’ve worn it to multiple weddings (with overlapping guests), award events (back-to-back with overlapping guests), and more. No one notices or cares as much as we think they do. Feeling your best is the best look.

Use Pinterest to shop your existing wardrobe— My favorite way to use Pinterest for dressing myself is to pin outfits that include styles and things I already have in my closet. Whenever I am preparing for a new season, travel, or work event, I turn to Pinterest for creative new ways to outfit myself with what I already have. Here’s a breakdown of how I do it.

Knowledge is power—The more I learn, the less I can ignore. Fuel your decision with books, Substacks, and documentaries. A great starting point could be the book Give a Sh*t by Ashley Piper or the documentary Buy Now on Netflix.

Where Am I Now?

Sixteen months later, the new things I have purchased are a pair of pajamas, two workout sets, one sweatshirt, and two sweaters. I don’t think we need to live in an all-or-nothing world, but I do believe we consume at a terrifyingly unsustainable rate (we’re already buying four times more clothing per year than we were a mere 25 years ago). A new sweater here and there isn’t the end of the world, if buying just a few pieces each year helps curb larger consumption habits, it’s worth it. As of now, I don’t intend to shop for new clothing again for a very long time, and I have my year of no new clothes to thank for a much-welcomed shift.

What do you think? What could you gain from a year of no new clothes?