As I explained in my last post, I actually did the long-anticipated clothing count over Christmas—but I’m going to sit on those numbers for a little while longer. (It’s going to take some concerted effort to decipher my notes!)

We’ve now moved into our new house, which has a very promising wardrobe space- a box room, which we’re planning to use as our dressing room. Although this sounds spacious, it’ll have a lot less space for clothing storage than our last place, which had an array of built-in cupboards for stashing our t-shirt mountains. So - even though I did manage to discard an impressive 120 items (the one stat I’ll let out of the bag right now) - I’m pretty sure it’ll still be a squeeze to fit everything in.

I say ‘pretty sure’ because the wardrobes are still in pieces right now…

… and our clothes are split between a disorganised pile in the new house, piles of boxes, and the closet at my parent’s house. 

Bearing this in mind, I’ve been brewing an idea for a new seasonal clothes regime. Now, I’ve always been quite dismissive of the idea of rotating your wardrobe from summer to winter. I’m not sure why: Perhaps because it suggests a degree of self-discipline that I am unsure I possess, or maybe because the British weather is such that you’re never entirely sure what season you’re in. How do you know when to rotate?

The only wise guidance I can think of is an old saying - ‘ne’er cast a clout while May is out’ - meaning don’t go out without a coat until the end of May - but that’s not overly helpful, given that in recent years we’ve had t-shirt temperatures in March, and awful weather in August. [Ed: Ha! Try it over here Amy…]

But I’m coming round to the idea of rotating my clothes. When I look through my dresses, for example, there are plenty that I know will only leave the wardrobe in the height of summer. And although I am a firm believer in the cardigan as an all-year-round staple (always handy in the evening, no matter how hot it is), my biggest, chunkiest knits really are reserved for the coldest days of winter.

I also like the idea of going beyond the conventional seasonal approach, and creating other wardrobe rhythms. Maybe, for example, I could package up some rarely-worn items into surprise parcels, to be opened each month with the challenge of wearing each piece at least once?

So, as I start to construct my new wardrobe (metaphorically and physically), I’m going to be thinking about how to group my clothes and how to set myself challenges and tasks that help me to enjoy more of the lovely things I have.

                                                                                        - Amy Twigger Holroyd

One-woman British fashion disruption engine Amy Twigger Holroyd is completing her PhD on folk fashion, while conducting stitch-hacking workshops, developing the practise and philosophy of reknitting, and producing fantastically restructured garments under her label Keep & Share. Read (and shop) more here