I want to talk about the White Lab Coat Effect. In a study conducted by Adam Galinsky and Hajo Adam, evidence suggested that a group of test-takers who donned white coats and believed it to be a lab coat performed better than those who wore the same coat but believed it to be a painter’s smock. “Dress for the job you want” is advice I have heard several times throughout my lifetime, and although it can be slightly insufferable to hear, there is some truth to it.
I absolutely love clothes, and quite honestly, I think about them more than I’d like to admit. I wish I knew exactly when this love affair began, but it’s hard to pinpoint because I have fixated on clothing for as long as I can remember. I was one of millions of little girls who loved to play dress-up and had a Sterilite box filled with clothes and old costumes that could turn me into a witch, a bride, and various Disney princesses. I felt the familiar awkwardness of adolescence and clung to the clothes that felt like a safe haven when my body was changing at a rate my comprehension couldn’t keep up with. At thirty, I now feel less obligated to perform femininity and highlight my youth in the way I did when I was in my twenties (a majority of my clothes lean more menswear-inspired) and more concerned with how my clothes make me feel—because when an outfit is right and feels aligned with who you are, you feel beautiful, prepared, confident, and sort of unstoppable. Clothing becomes a massive part of our lives in this way, making it easy for us to show up in the world as the best versions of ourselves. This, to me, is reason enough for me to believe in the power of clothing, and to automatically dismiss love for the sartorial as “frivolous” is a boring and lazy argument.
The creator above posted a brilliant TikTok providing a cogent rebuttal against the alleged “frivolity” of clothing, and it came across my For You Page just as I was beginning to dissect the role clothing plays in my life. She briefly mentions Miranda Priestly’s iconic monologue from The Devil Wears Prada, stating that those who admonish people who love fashion have no choice but to participate in it, and your disdain for fashion doesn’t exempt you from the conversation. Everyone has to wear clothes, which inevitably makes you a part of it whether you like it or not. You may think you’re just wearing a blue sweater—but to us, it’s cerulean. Your clothing says something about who you are, even when you aren’t trying to say anything at all.
Like the great stylist and content creator Allison Bornstein, I genuinely believe that figuring out your personal style can be an act of self-care.
“How you approach your wardrobe is linked to how you feel about yourself, and thus cleaning it out, editing it down, and refining it is its very own wellness activity.”
Furthermore, when you know yourself and understand your taste, you buy less. Your purchases are more considered, and you are less likely to fall prey to the rampant consumerism that fast fashion giants rely on. When you take the act of figuring out your personal style seriously and view it through the lens of psychology and self-care, fashion is no longer frivolous but rather an important tool for self-discovery. Not to mention it has been scientifically proven that our brains are hardwired to react positively to beauty and design, releasing hormones like Oxytocin and calming our nervous systems when we see something that pleases the eye.
I have mentioned it before, but I am studying to become a therapist. I always felt that my love for both fashion and psychology were at odds with one another, but I see now that (at least, for me) they are inextricably linked. Working in marketing for the last decade has made me privy to the myriad of psychological tactics used by companies to prey on our insecurities, convincing us that whatever is in our cart is going to solve all of our problems. But the relationship between fashion and psychology doesn’t need to be a toxic one. We can leverage this relationship to examine the way our clothes make us feel, and how they can positively impact the way we show up in the world. Fashion is something that can make us feel really good, but only if we participate in it mindfully.
It has taken me a long time to be okay with it, but I have recently given myself permission to admire and want beautiful things. I used to feel very guilty every time I felt a pang of desire when I saw someone carrying a Margaux, or wearing a gorgeous pair of Manolos. It’s frivolous! It’s expensive! Girl, it doesn’t matter. There is nothing wrong with wanting those things, or even purchasing them. There is something wrong with being a perpetual consumer or going into immense amounts of debt to obtain these things. There is always going to be some *new thing* to chase, some viral trend we are encouraged to participate in, but being confident in yourself and the way you dress makes you less susceptible to the siren song of the trend cycle. I have learned when to take note of how I feel when I am inclined to make a purchase, recognize that I am allowed to appreciate things without owning them and remind myself how easy it is to conflate admiration with participation. Not everything is for me, and that’s okay. If we participated in every trend, we would all look either identical or absolutely insane.
This is a very long-winded way of saying that fashion and clothing don’t have to be frivolous. I think of fashion as a tool for self-discovery and expression. A knife is a necessary tool for preparing food that provides you with nourishment, but it can also be used for harm. Fashion can be the same way. But I digress! Save up, buy a quality piece you will adore for years and years, revel in the beauty of it, and wear it until it disintegrates. Mindfulness is a lifestyle and can be applied to anything and everything—including fashion.
xo