CheapJAP

Cheap JAP 101

Wardrobe Bitchslap: The Monetarily, Socially and Environmentally Responsible Disposal of the NAYs

At this stage of the Wardrobe Bitchslapping Process, it’s time to literally clean house. This is how we do it.

All NAYs can be categorized as such:
The Money NAYs
Money NAYs consist of gently worn designer castoffs that you will SELL. NYC’s consignment stores are notoriously snooty, so unless your stuff is uber upscale (think Dolce & Gabbana, Marc Jacobs, DVF, etc.) AND relatively recent (anything from the 80s or 90s probs won’t fly), don’t even bother with those jerk-offs. Ebay’s your best bet.

The Thriftastic NAYs
Thriftastic NAYs are best sold at Buffalo Exchange, or at stores like Beacon’s Closet. They’re usually cool, no-name items or stuff that’s one notch down on the brand-o-meter (GAP, Banana Republic, Juicy Couture, etc.). Money NAYs can def be sold as Thriftastic NAYs if you don’t feel like completing the nine thousand steps necessary for selling on Ebay.

The She-Would-Love-That NAYs
These depend on how much you like your friends and family. Getting rid of something you know would look fab on your cousin? Wrap it up real pretty: Happy Hannukah to her! What? It’s not re-gifting if you’re giving away clothes you bought for yourself. Just don’t saddle her with a fugly college sweatshirt or something.

The Charity NAYs
My Charity NAYs often go to my parents’ housekeeper’s daughters. So noble of me, I know. Give yours to a local shelter, Goodwill, Salvation Army, whatever. Some people really do need clothes.

The Nostalgic NAYs
Your old sorority garb. Your Bat Mitzvah gown. Your best Halloween get-up. These are NAYs because they don’t belong in your closet, not because you’re saying goodbye forever, so cease with the sniffles. Nostalgic NAYs go in the attic, in a space-saving storage bag under the bed or in that trunk that doubles as a coffee table. Out of the closet, out of sight, but never out of mind. Oh, memories!

The Garbage NAYs
Old socks, ripped and/or pitstained (eew!) t-shirts. Anything utterly unwearable. This and ONLY this is what you throw out. If I bust you trashing the bag of NAYs destined for Goodwill, I will personally hunt you down and beat some sense into your lazy arse with my Botkier bag. Giving to charity - Good; Giving to landfills - Bad.

As I recently subjected my own closet to the Wardrobe Bitchslapping Process, I’m well aware that much of this is easier said than done, particularly where letting go of the Money NAYs is concerned. The high-end stuff to which I’m saying buh-bye follows.

DIY Dallying

From Sucky to Super! Shapeless Sweaters

After showing Mommy’s Closet who was boss, I found this shapeless, Ralph Lauren cashmere sweater lurking in her NAY pile. I probs should have taken a ‘Before’ photo (hindsight’s a bitch). Just trust me when I say it was totally meh in its original form; the v-neck was too high-cut to flatter a C-cup, and the torso sagged off the body as opposed to hugging it.

Yes, it was in reasonably good condition and had the yummy softness characteristic of overpriced cashmere, but it made its wearer look utterly dowdy.

So I busted out the scissors, hacked up the neckline, snipped a few inches off the bottom, and made one bottom-to-middle cut in front. Then I put it on, simply tied the two front pieces together and Voi-freaking-la.

Fitted, cropped cashmere sweater accomplished!

Cheap JAP 101

Wardrobe Bitchslap: The Sifting of the OY VEYs.

The next stage of the Wardrobe Bitchslapping Process starts and ends with an OY VEY. Actually, I’m lying. It starts with you NOT touching and/or attempting to organize the YAY and NAY piles. The reasons for prolonging the disarray will become clear in due time, young Skywalkers. For now, quiet your inner-neat freaks and focus.

When Mom and I got to the OY VEY pile, we repeated variations of the following exchange for almost every article of clothing.

Me: (holding up item) What about this?
Mom: I wear that!
Me: When was the last time you wore it?
Mom: That’s not the POINT. I THINK about wearing it.
Me: MOM!

This is but one example of the kind of waffling you’re apt to indulge in whilst sorting the OY VEYs. Use these three steps to counter the flippity-floppity:
1. STOP, LOOK & LISTEN
Yup, we’re doing a little visual exercise here. Look at the item you’re holding; look at the NAY pile. Look at the item you’re holding; look at the YAY pile. Is the article in question similar in color, cut, style and/or material to your other YAYs or not? If so…
2. TRY IT ON
Immediately. If you’re not comfortable wearing it now, you’re not going to wear it anytime soon, dollface. And don’t give me any of that this-will-look-great-if-I-just-lose-five-pounds bullshit. You’ve got a whole pile of YAYs that look great NOW, and whatever you’re trying to squeeze into obvs shrunk in the dryer and cannot be trusted ;).
3. MAYBE USUALLY MEANS…
NO. But even I can’t go uber-minimalist (oxymoron?) in one Wardrobe Bitchslap. Only you know what you use most in your closet. Only you know what cuts, styles, colors and materials make you feel fab. Sort your OY VEYs according to that, and you’ll get closer and closer to the epic achievement of actually wearing all that stuff you “need.”

DON’T feel guilty about the accumulating NAYs. We’ve wasted just as much moolah on our castoffs as you did on yours. And it’s not like we’re throwing this stuff in the trash: We’re going to donate it, gift it, sell it, and/or re-fashion it. Stay tuned for tips on Greenly dispersing your NAYs slash organizing your YAYs.

Economic Shitstorm

Wardrobe Bitchslap: Steps 1, 2

To refresh: The Closeto Principle states that 80% of our outfits come from 20% of our clothes. Here’s how to sift through the shit to find the stuff that’s the SHIZNAT.

Disclaimer: If the words pack rat, sentimental and/or greedy apply to you, embark on this process with a friend whose opinion you trust and whose spending habits and personal style you admire.

1. Get it OUT.
All of it. I’m not effing around. Remove EVERY SINGLE PIECE of clothing from your closet. I don’t care if it’s an American Apparel tee or a Diane von Furstenberg frock. I don’t care if it’s a pair of slacks you haven’t seen in years or those leggings you wear 24/7. Out of the closet and onto the floor it goes. Successful execution of Step 1 should result in a massive, disorganized pile of crap. Read on.

2. Yay, Nay, Oy Vey; Repeat.
Every single item in your wardrobe falls into one of the following three categories.
YAY! (yes): Your fave pair(s) of jeans; your go-to LBD; that linen blazer you can’t wait to bust out each spring; those camis you wear under everything you own. The stuff you LOVE not for its brand or because it’s, like, so Now, but because it makes you feel fab every time you put it on. YAY.

NAY! (no): Anything you haven’t worn in six months. Anything that makes you feel fugly, fat or flat-chested. Anything appropriate for a costume or theme party and no other occasion. Anything you’ve been saving for your BFF/sister/daughter/niece. Anything you’re keeping around only to rationalize how much money you wasted on it. NAY.
*Don’t flip out - we’re not donating or trashing all this stuff, stupidhead. We’re just getting it out of YOUR closet because YOU aren’t wearing it. Mmkay?

OY VEY! (maybe): A shapeless cashmere sweater; an accidentally-shrunken shirt; a designer suit too dressy for the office; a pair of stilettos too painful to walk in; a baggy dress; your ’skinny’ jeans; all that shit you haven’t let go of because it’s a brand, really pretty and/or invokes nostalgia; anything you have ANY doubts about tossing OR keeping for whatever reason. OY VEY.

After you’ve sorted every single item in your closet into one of these three piles, you’ll likely have a little YAY, a little NAY, and a whole lot of OY VEY.

To be continued…

Cheap JAP 101

The Closeto Principle

When I revamp a closet, be it my own or someone else’s, my plan of attack always starts with something I like to call The Closeto Principle. The Closeto Principle is kin (and rhyming counterpart, natch) to the better-known Pareto Principle, which states that for many events, roughly 80% of the effects come from 20% of the causes.

Yup, you don’t care. Events, causes, effects - what is this, the Intro to Macro class you should have failed but didn’t thanks to grade inflation? (Wait, that was me). Chillax. The idea’s a hell of a lot easier to understand when applied to what’s in our closets.

The Closeto Principle: 80% of your outfits come from 20% of your clothes.

WHOA. Hang the eff on. You’ve got, like, sooo many clothes and sooo many outfits. There’s no WAY you wear less than a quarter of your wardrobe more than half the time. That would mean that OVER HALF of your closet is comprised of shit you wear only once in a while, if at all. And here’s the cold, hard truth about the aforementioned shit you wear once in a while, if at all:

YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PURCHASED IT.

Don’t believe me? Think about just one of your multiple attempts to wear that pricey top that’s been sitting in your closet for months. You layer it; belt it; accessorize it; re-apply your eye make-up to match it; put your hair up, down, and up again; adjust and readjust in front of the mirror. All this fidgeting invariably makes you late for something, but instead of just wearing the pricey top in the interest of saving time, you toss it to the floor in frustration, guilt and disgust. You next don your favorite shirt, breathe a big fat sigh of relief, and find yourself astounded by how quickly you’re able to get ready sometimes.

Me too, dollfaces. Me too.

Tall, short, old, young, fat, skinny, black, white, gay, straight, whatever - we all have a pricey top we feel guilty about not wearing. Roughly 80% of our closets are filled with versions of this cursed pricey top, and it’s time to clean house, beotches. You’ll thank me later.

Details on how to reduce, reuse and recycle over half of the un-worns in your wardrobe to follow. Get that game face on.

Mommy's Closet

Black Friday, No Green

On Black Friday, I shopped my ass off without leaving my parents’ house in Jersey. One might assume this means I browsed and bought via mouse and keypad. NEGATIVE. Yesterday’s shopping experience cost me zero in green. How did I achieve this feat? By helping Mommy organize her closet, of course!

My mom is a notorious packrat. This made ridding her closet of things she hadn’t worn in years a bitch and a half that, upon reflection, requires subsequent posts on:
(a) My plan of attack.
(b) The execution of said plan on said closet.
(c) My first experience selling to Consignment shops, as Mom’s cast-offs have serious re-sale potential.

The terms of my compensation for cleaning Mom’s closet were negotiated as such: I could keep the cash and/or store credit made from selling her No Pile to Consignment and/or Beacon’s. I could also take whatever I wanted in the aforementioned No Pile for myself.

I thought I’d tapped the closet of its unworn awesomeness on prior visits, so I initially expected nothing from the second compensatory condition.

Instead, I got (clockwise, from top left) a Nicole Miller Collection cropped evening jacket; a Nanette Lepore blazer; a high-waisted, leather, cheetah-print number that is now perhaps the coolest thing I own; a Calvin Klein Collection copper skirt. Mom hadn’t worn any of this stuff in years; she’d hung on to it only to give it to me.

While Mom’s packrat tendencies made cleaning her closet a two-day process, the experience wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d anticipated. Each piece I tried on had a memory attached to it - a moment recalled by my mother as she saw me in her clothes, a story I listened to as we divided and conquered the wardrobe.

All told, it was the best shopping experience I’ve ever had.

….not to mention the cheapest.

Economic Shitstorm

Leather, Recycled and Re-born!

My cobbler did a pretty kickass job resurrecting my destroyed leather goodies. Some Before and After pics, as proof:

Dr. Cobbler didn’t just fix the strap on my broken Botkier.

He reinforced every loose thread on the thing. He also re-heeled my gnarled Aldo motorcycle boots, like whoa. They’re totally good as new!

The salvation of my Botkier and boots cost me $25 and $35, respectively. So basically, I got a $550 handbag and a $120 pair of shoes for the bargain price of $60. It just doesn’t get much better than that.

Economic Shitstorm

Lifeless Leather? Ask Dr. Cobbler.

WARNING: The pictures you’re about to see may cause horror, fury, melancholy and/or disgust. They’re what happens to your leather goods after you’ve loved them a little too much.
When the strap on my Botkier broke, I initially allowed my preoccupation with my Abaco to distract me from the pain of loss. Alas, no handbag worth its monetary and emotional investment is easily gotten over. Said bag was, after all, the original reason behind my waiting tables in college; I sacrificed sleep, time and dignity to pay for the thing in 20s, 10s and 1s, and it served me well for five whole years. The least I can do is give it another shot. So I’m taking this sick puppy to the leather doc today to see if he can bring it back to life.
That leather cobbling is a dying art totally speaks to our constant need to buy new crap. When our old stuff starts to wear and tear, we don’t think about how to prolong its lifespan; we think of it as an excuse to spend on things we want under the guise of need. When the worn-out stuff in question is a fugly dress or an old t-shirt, tossing the old and buying the new ain’t no thang. When it’s a $550 handbag, you best think twice.
While I’m at it, I might as well give my oh-so-broken-in Aldo motorcycle boots another shot before officially writing them off. I got these for $110ish last year (reduced from $150). While they weren’t quite as much as an investment as the Botkier, they’ve become the most comfortable heel I own (via a long, arduous breaking-in process). And when you’re 5′2″, you can’t put a price on a comfortable heel. I’m hoping they’ll look less gnarled post-makeover.

Stay tuned for reports on what my local cobbler dude charges me, and - hopefully - for “after” shots too.