As the third of four girls, growing up, I rarely had my own clothing that no one else had worn before. I can count the number of new outfits I wore during the first 16 or 18 years of my life on both hands. Compounding this issue was attending Catholic school, where we had uniforms for school days. One doesn’t need a whole lot of non-school clothes when you’re in elementary and high school, so the need to buy special clothes for the weekends or for the occasional party, didn’t equate to having a vast wardrobe. Having two older sisters, whose closets could be raided for parties meant that once they went off to college, my own wardrobe decreased dramatically. By the time it was my turn to leave for college, I had a limited selection of clothing, and was suddenly thrown into the world of having to wear something other than uniforms every day. Being a poor student, my options were decidedly limited. Choosing amongst paying tuition, buying books and having money for things like running shoes for my time on the cross-country team meant that my meager income left little to nothing for expensive (or even inexpensive) clothes.
After leaving college, I entered the corporate world. Once again, I was back in hand-me-downs as my oldest sister gifted me her ‘business attire’ outfits when she changed jobs. They weren’t exactly my size, but they worked, and fit the ‘business attire’ dress code the company that I worked for required. My second job out of college was at Quaker Oats in a cereals manufacturing plant in Pennsylvania. At the time, they were going through revamping the employee uniforms (adding more stylist outfits, multiple options and so on). As a ‘salaried’ employee, I was given the option of wearing the uniform 100% of the time and getting a wide selection of Quaker-wear for free, or wearing whatever I wanted and paying for logo-ed shirts or jackets for special events. With two young children at home, the machine-washable Quaker uniform was hugely attractive. Not only could I avoid having to buy ‘business casual’ outfits (their dress code wasn’t straight up ‘business attire’ so the old wardrobe didn’t work), but I didn’t need to worry about the inevitable bodily fluids that could end up on my clothing without any warning. I jumped at the opportunity to wear the uniform.
I later moved to a Quaker Rice Cakes plant in Vermont and was back into having a different wardrobe for work. The atmosphere in Vermont was much more casual, and employees were even allowed to wear shorts in the summertime (albeit there was a strict inseam measurement requirement so that we weren’t seeing too much leg). Given the environment, we only wore ‘business casual’ when we had the big-wigs from Chicago HQ visiting us, so everyone tended to wear a much more casual selection of clothes. While I couldn’t wear the uniform from Pennsylvania, I didn’t need a very dressy selection of clothing. In fact, the first summer at the plant, my personal office didn’t have air conditioning, so shorts were definitely a more practical solution.
Flash forward to my move to Massachusetts. I started to expand my work wardrobe and following the premise that you should dress one level above your actual position. At the time, Talbots was the go-to retail store for me. The quality and sizing were such that I could walk into any of their stores, and grab things off the rack without needing to try them on. I usually brought my fashion consultants (aka my kids) who would help me to select just the right look for me. Over time, Talbots declined as they seemed to be looking to increase profits while cheapening the brand. Suddenly, what used to be an automatic size and fit for me changed, and I found that I needed to try on 3 sizes every time I went into the shops (my usual size, and one size up, as well as one size down). I pointed this out to the store clerks, but they flat out denied that Talbots had changed their suppliers or their sizing. My weight (and certainly size) doesn’t change that much, so I told them that I didn’t believe it – the clothing that used to fit me perfectly no longer did, and my body wasn’t what was changing in the equation. In any case, I tended to go back from time to time since the style and look was in line with what I wanted. It was just disappointing that the ease of grabbing what looked good on the rack was no longer a guarantee that it would fit right, or look good on me.
For the next several years, I floated between brands, and never really locked into a specific store or designer. When I injured my foot, and had to stop running for a while, my size started to go up (adding insult to the actual injury), and I reluctantly started buying larger sizes. After the surgery, and a bout of using the LoseIt App to shed the pre-surgery and recovery weight, I got back to gradually expanding my wardrobe. I also found that when you wear clothing that isn’t your size, people tend to ask whether you’re sick. So, the larger sizes I bought before losing the weight made it appear that I was either really sick, or anorexic. For me, looking sick wasn’t the style I was going for in my clothing, so I reverted to buying new clothes to ensure that they fit me correctly, and people would stop asking after my health.
The real expansion and clothing fetish began once I moved to the UK and discovered Ted – Ted Baker, that is. Ted is a British brand that is the perfect fit for me. The style, the colors and overall fit suit me well. While I sometimes need to have things shortened (alas, Ted doesn’t have a petite line, and I’m not the typical 5-foot 9-inch women’s fashion model), I find that I’m back to a brand where I can pull something off the rack and it fits me. As my travel through Heathrow airport increased, and the three primary terminals that I used for my travels had Ted shops, I started to increase my selection. Given that the airport sells things ‘tax free,’ it was like having a constant 20% discount. The airports didn’t always carry the full line, but they carried enough to satisfy my desire for a full wardrobe, and my growing clothing fetish.
My friends and co-workers began to recognize the Ted style and I often had questions about whether a particular outfit was Ted (and it usually was – lol). In fact, while on vacation on Jersey (the original Jersey in the Channel Islands, not the ‘New’ Jersey of the US), my best friend pointed out a top in a shop window that she thought suited me. We dashed into the shop, and discovered that it was a Ted Baker top. We both had a good laugh – and, no, I didn’t actually buy it. Not because I had plenty of tops, but because they didn’t have my size.
During the five years that I lived in the UK, I continued to expand my wardrobe. While I developed a certain fondness for overcoats of all kinds, I tried to limit myself to one coat per seasonal element. Even though you could say that there are 365 days in a year, so keeping to 4 or 5 coats is disproportionately small, I do try to not overload my coat-closet. My shoes and fashion boot collection also began to grow as well since having the right shoes is just as important as having the right outfit. Today, I have the distinctive seasonal wardrobe of someone who lives in an area that actually has four seasons. I’ve also found that I need to use the two walk-in closets of my 2-bedroom apartment to contain the expanding selection. For a while, I tried to employ the ‘one in, one out’ method and replace items (as opposed to adding exponentially). At some stage, I decided this wasn’t working since I could buy things that were new and unique, but also have nothing that was old and needing to exit my closet.
I like to think that my buying spree has come to an end since I no longer have direct access to Ted. While Ted has expanded into the US market, unfortunately, they are catering to the American fashion sense. This means that the British style I so love is not available in this country. Rather, they tend to sell fashionable athletic wear. Apparently, American women want to wear stylish sweatpants to work. Most clothing is pitched as being super comfortable, machine washable and containing lycra so that you can go from bed to gym to work without a change of clothing (lol). That said, I’ve recently discovered Johnnie Boden, which is another British label that I never actually saw while living in the UK. Interestingly, they have a petite line – another thing I rarely saw in the UK. From a marketing standpoint, they highlight the very fact that they’re British and are selling British fashion. So, unlike Ted, they see their British-ness as being a key selling point in the American market. I don’t know how successful they’ve been, though I imagine that having Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle featuring heavily in American media helps them promote their style. I’ve already bought a few things from them, and can see this as a potential next step in my clothing fetish. Of course, I have trips planned to the UK, and Ted will be on the agenda for my visits. I am rather brand loyal when it comes to that – but, as I remind myself, you get what you pay for. Once I find the brand that works for me, I tend to stick with it until they change their look, quality or sizing so that it no longer makes the shopping experience fun.
