Style Intentions for 2025

A mixed bag of ideas, hopes, and wishes.

After all the year-end lists have been made—the categories of self-tracking charted and summarized—the natural thing I turn my mind towards is, what’s next?

I have always been a sucker for the prospect of a reset: a renewal of terms. When I went to bed on New Year’s Eve at 10 pm and woke up in 2025 (albeit much too early, roused by a teething toddler), I felt like the same person I was mere hours ago. But I like to imagine that a tuning up had taken place, however imperceptible to me. Like a microscopic custodian has crawled into my brain and pressed “run” on the updated programming I’d been composing inside my head: my intentions for the coming year.

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Carrying Forward 2024’s A-Ha Moments

On my phone, I keep a running list of stray thoughts regarding my relationship to style and clothing. Sometimes they hit me so strongly that I have to immediately stop what I’m doing (in many cases this meant dramatically pulling over the stroller on the sidewalk) and jot things down before my weak short-term memory corrupts any potential nuggets of wisdom.

In lieu of a nice synopsis, I’m dumping an abridged version of my notes here. Common themes include letting go of my incessant need for control, accepting ambiguity and mess, finding balance, and truly recognizing my wardrobe as a work in progress—not a high pressure project to be tackled with an Agile mindset, but one I can meander with: a perpetually wet canvas.

It’s easy to write these realizations down and feel all profound, less so to really internalize the lessons and embody them. The latter I’m still working on.

• Obsessing over my wardrobe contents and shopping choices is about wanting to exercise control and agency—especially when it’s lacking in other areas of life.

  • Accepting that I have little control over the autonomous being I’ve put on this earth has prompted me to direct my need for reason and order to my wardrobe—a place where I’m in total charge.

  • There’s value in being intentional—even dogged—about cultivating a long-lasting wardrobe, but I ought to remember that feel best about my closet direction when that devoted planning is balanced with some allowance for the organic and emergent.

  • Breath and have faith. Trust that that I will get over a missed item, that I’ll eventually find an object of desire in-person, that I won’t miss something I haven’t worn in ages but was a big purchase, that I’ll come back to something my gut is telling me not to declutter.

• I can love my existing clothes—wanting to wear them over and over again—while still coveting new things; having conflicting desires is not a character flaw, but deeply humanistic.

  • It isn’t punishment to wear clothes that are old, outdated, or not aligned with my current style preferences, nor is it a crime to fantasize and dream. It’s about striking the balance between making-do/doing-without and indulging in select desires.

• I am drawn to style analysis frameworks out of curiosity, but recognize their limitations and drawbacks.

  • I feel uneasy about consumerist impulses enabled by revolving loops of style reinvention. Everyday there seems to be a new system coming out, trying to get us to buy into a new round of define-edit-and-shop.

  • Motherhood has urged me to really contemplate and renegotiate what I think it means to be and feel like “myself”. Where personal style comes in, engaging in thought exercises can be helpful, but fixation on reaching an optimized state is not.

• I still see style expression and wardrobe building as personal, long-term projects worth devoting resources (time, energy, money) to.

  • But it shouldn’t feel high-stakes or induce panic over whether I’m doing it right or wrong. (Is my outfit good? Is my wardrobe too big? Will I regret buying this sweater over that one?)

  • I want to wear clothes that I like, plain and simple, not worrying too much about carrying through an overall vision or achieving style mastery.

• My clothes are ancillary to my identity.

  • It isn’t the objects I’ve curated that give my life meaning, but life itself that gives objects purpose. A precious garment is nothing save for the hands that crafted it, and the wearer who animates it with bones and flesh.

  • It’s true that I often feel more confident in beautiful pieces that I believe to be flattering, but I’m no less “me” when I’m sick at home in threadbare sweats. I am not betraying myself by wearing clothes that don’t perfectly represent my taste or failing to express my style to the nth degree, 100% of the time.

  • Getting dressed is something between putting on my practical armour for the day and a medium for expression—the placement of my outfits shifting day by day on this sliding scale.

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Shopping Guidelines

The cardigan + my imperfect but kind of charming attempt at Swiss darning.

First, I must fess up to a few more December purchases: a 60’s style wool cardigan (a spontaneous and cherished find), a pair of white gold hoops (to replace the 3 earrings I broke/lost in 2023), and a pair of orange leather flats (waiting for warmer weather to make their debut). That brings my total wardrobe-related purchases in 2023 to 22 items. Not minimal, nor excessive. An amount I can live with.

I’ve been thinking a lot of shopping rules and intentions (no doubt spurred by the plethora of recent Substack postings on this topic), from the Rule of 5 to something more flexible. What I’ve landed on is a few simple guidelines for myself—structured, but not immutable.

Apply the Rule of 5 to online purchases only.

In 2024, I did a lot more online shopping than typical for me (50% of wardrobe purchases). Doing my bidding through a screen promised control, restraint, and the possibility of finding exactly what I imagined. Indeed, I scored a lot of amazing pieces this way. But there were losses, too: sensorial pleasures of encountering clothes IRL, evening hours spent scrolling and obsessively checking bookmarks, the sense of local connection when I peer at my latest acquisitions. The only quantifiable shopping goal I’m setting for myself in 2025 is to limit online purchases to 5 or fewer—rejecting the tyrannic lure of bottomless queries and embracing finitude (loved Alison Brimley’s writing on this).

Rediscover the pleasure of shopping in-person.

After compiling this spreadsheet, my regret-filled history of impulse buys temporarily turned me off of shopping in-person—I felt like I couldn’t trust myself near a secondhand rail. In 2025, I want to redirect my attention to the near and tangible, encouraging myself to experience the magic of analog browsing without being overcome by greed or FOMO.

Rather than thoughtlessly sliding down the short funnel from inspiration to one-click ordering, I’d like to work harder for much purchases. I want to walk into shops and talk to people and try things on and consider. I want to leave empty handed if nothing feels quite right. I want to let myself feel surprised by what does. And ultimately: I want to do my part to make sure the shops that I so value in my community and in other cities keep their doors open for others to experience the same, specific sense of joy that shopping in person delivers.

—Eillie Anzilotti

Currently, I don’t intend to set a cap for my real world purchases (new and secondhand). Instead, I will use my discretion (gulp). I like Jenny Xie’s point on eschewing budgets and quotas to “get rid of the expectation that you’ll buy clothes regularly”. Although I feel a bit rudderless without a number, I’m ready to embark on my own path of conscious consumerism, one that is open to spontaneous detours because it’s being driven by a strong inner compass.

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A Wishlist Informed by Wardrobe Data

Midway through last year, I made the leap from manually tracking my outfits and # of wears to using Indyx. In addition to outfit logging, I’ve now updated my wardrobe inventory with 2024’s numbers. The spreadsheet has been divided into “active” and “inactive” subsections as a sizeable chunk of my clothes don’t currently fit, are not practical for everyday wear, or require maintenance. My goal is to slowly whittle down this latter pile—tackling the repairs and parting with items that deserve a spot in someone else’s rotation—though I am in no hurry to resolve all the question marks.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm for metrics like cost-per-wear and wardrobe usage, I enjoy having all this data as a back-pocket tool for seeing dressing patterns and understanding the state of my wardrobe. This information particularly comes in handy when assessing what I might want to bring into my closet in 2025. Here is a quick category-by-category analysis of what I have and what I’m coveting:

• Skirts and dresses: Barely worn all last year, but I’m looking forward to revisiting these sections of my closet. No real desire to add more—aside from potentially an elastic waist skirt in washable cotton.

• Shorts: I have 5 active pairs, each worn 10-20 times over last summer. This feels like the Goldilocks amount.

• Jeans: My wardrobe heroes, worn 143 days of the previous year. I have 5 pairs that fit me, 4 of which were bought postpartum. I still drool over denim, but know that I am good with the collection I have.

• Pants: Overall, I have a solid selection of pants for every season, but I'm on the lookout for a second pair of pleated trousers in wool or heavy cotton (I wore my Naked and Famous ones 43 times) and a pair of warm, elastic waist pants with pockets (the Cordera knit joggers are great, but have largely become home pants).

• Short and sleeveless tops: I have lots of options in this department and look forward to having even more post-weaning. However, I’d like to replace the white shell that I ruined with something analogous, and maybe add a sleek black boatneck tank that’s more office apropos.

• Button up and long sleeve tops: I have plenty of button up shirts, almost all of them active. My goal here is to continue wearing the hell out of the ones I already have (I wore my two denim shirts a combined 53 times last year, but am ready to embrace more delicate silks again). Long sleeve tops are not a closet staple for me, but I could see myself adding a cream coloured tee in hemp or raw silk for layering.

• Knitwear: I have 16 active pieces in this category, including all the thin merino knits, cashmere, and vintage thermals I could possibly want (at least for now). But I’ve been craving some heftier, textured sweaters as part of this mix and am patiently waiting to come across the right ones.

• Outerwear: I’m always tempted by light jackets, but the in-between seasons are so short here that I really don’t need anymore. A big ticket purchase I’m considering for 2025 is a polished wool coat—one that fits well and is actually warm enough for Canadian winter.

• Shoes: While I’m good in the realm of hardy, practical shoes (my Keen Howsers racked up 154 wears last year), I would love to find a pair of “fun” shoes that could be worn across seasons (unfortunately the orange flats I bought are not compatible with frost). I’m also on the lookout for a pair of secondhand rubber rain loafers so I can stomp through spring puddles in style.

Let’s be honest, there are very few functional gaps in my closet. My main drivers for acquiring clothes these days are 1) to explore new styling ideas or make an envisioned outfit come to life, and 2) to own an object I find beautiful. Given that I already possess what I need to get through the next 300-something days, what I’m really after are wardrobe enhancers: a handful of things that intrigue me, while being practical and wearable for my humble life. In 2025, I am open to exploring the depths and edges of my style through thoughtful acquisitions, as long as it’s enjoyable and creatively stimulating—not bringing upon shame or making me overwhelmed.

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What I’m Looking Forward to in 2025

These aren’t my style goals per se, but I’m excited about:

• Creating a work-from-office uniform that’s distinct from mothering-at-home—taking the opportunity to wear skirts, dresses, silks, and more polished pieces.

• Wearing cute, non-nursing-friendly tops next summer. Goodbye sweaty pads!

• Taking style inspiration from my child. For example, I never thought orange suited me but I love it on her (we share the same complexion). Using her as a mirror has been opening my eyes to new possibilities.

• Exploring sewing and knitting again. I’m not going to pressure myself with any lofty ideas, but I’d love to try making a knitted hood as my winter hibernation project, and maybe embroider some of my (and my daughter’s) clothes.

• Playing around with outfit-making and travel wardrobe planning on Indyx.

And, of course, continuing to document my relationship to my clothes, exploring my sartorial interests, and interrogating my shopping desires through writing on Substack. I’ve got more drafts and 30-Wears Collection candidates than I have time to execute, but I’ll do my best!