The perfect wardrobe. The ultimate combination of style, quality, versatilely, comfort and function. It's an elusive concept that is the obsession of many.
Because surely this would be the ideal, instead of that overflowing closet in the corner of your bedroom, stuffed to the brim with unworn impulse buys and bargain low quality garments that are yet to see the light of day, leaving you surrounded by a sea of clothes but standing helplessly in your underwear whining "I've got nothing to wear!" To have ownership of a selective collection of a few interchangeable items; a consummate capsule wardrobe to erase the prospect of any future outfit planning dramas. Would this not be better?
So why is it that we still insist on hoarding mounds of odd garments, investing in whimsical trends over key pieces? Is it because we're restless? Indecisive? Greedy, even? Probably. And while the concept of the perfect wardrobe, curated and engineered to maximise use of a small number of simple and versatile items and minimise effort and waste, is more than a little attractive, at what level of order and regulation would the satisfaction of organisation overpower this incessant need to buy buy buy?
But does the perfect wardrobe even exist? I wonder whether our tastes for fast and fleeting fashions have banished the possibility of reaching a stable state of content with our wardrobes. There is no sort of guide that I am yet to come across that can tell you the means of forming such a thing, of tailoring your wardrobe to fit your personal needs. There is no equation to help you solve the optimum number of different trouser styles to own; no map to help you discover the required types of dresses to have.
What is there to say that the ownership of the perfect wardrobe is a tangible state?
Perhaps there is no such thing as the perfect wardrobe after all, just a Gatsby-esque dream that is hopelessly pursued, where the point of achievement lurks behind our consumeristic natures, lingering forever slightly out of reach.