at new york fashion week, i decided my outfit needed a pop of red.
what it actually needed was a size 37.
the red halmanera sandals were a 35. beautiful. strappy. precisely the finishing touch i wanted beneath my skirt, provided no one consulted the dimensions of my actual feet.
but alas, i wore them anyway. to appointments. around new york. all. day. long.
both relevant numbers — 35 + 37 — were available to me before leaving. this was not a failure of information. the vision had simply been granted veto power.
(supporting evidence in the literal footnote. tw: toes in distress.)1
the worst part: the red really worked. aesthetically, i stand by the decision. physically, standing by it was the problem.
i had recently published an entire article about clothes that return more energy than they consume. naturally, i followed this with a practical demonstration of the opposite.
but “wear shoes that fit” is a fairly short article, and i suspect you would like something more for your subscription.
besides, i don’t believe every beautiful thing needs to be effortless to earn its place in my life. i enjoy making an effort. sometimes the occasion deserves it. sometimes making the effort is what turns it into an occasion.
there is still an accounting discrepancy to investigate.
how much trouble does looking good get to justify?
a brief investigation into where the returns went
in a historic feet feat, “girl math” dramatically strutted into the 2023 digital zeitgeist. at long last, compound justification had found its audience.
the standard defense begins with cost per wear.
divide the price of a coat by the number of times you intend to wear it + suddenly you are making a very responsible decision. possibly saving money by purchasing it immediately.
i understand. i have represented the coat.
cost per wear is useful — but dividing the purchase price by twenty outings tells me very little about what happened on those outings.
did i feel wonderful? did i spend dinner pulling something down? did the shoes require an uber for a journey visible from the restaurant window?
the purchase price is not always the final invoice.
return on investment asks what you gain relative to what you put in. for clothes, the return might be pleasure, confidence, expression. sometimes “i feel fucking incredible in this” is the entire business case.
the investment includes the money + the time, preparation and attention the outfit requires.
and i don’t value all of that effort equally. an hour playing with clothes can be a lovely hour. i might discover a new combination i’ll wear for years. spending dinner monitoring a neckline means part of me is still getting dressed while everyone else is having a conversation.
i enjoy getting dressed. i would, however, like to finish.
what interested me at new york fashion week was how badly appearance predicted effort.
the outfit showing the most skin left me entirely at ease. yet a small red sandal became a full-time management position.
so i started thinking about the statement-to-effort ratio: how much expression an outfit delivers relative to how much work it requires to keep wearing it.
the question became less is this easy? + more what am i getting for the trouble?
fashion week provided unusually aggressive testing conditions.
appointments are back to back. the shoes slow the walk. the walk eats into the outfit change. suddenly, you’re wrestling a seatbelt in an uber with a tote on your lap + a bag of boots at your feet.
what looked like a minor inconvenience in the hotel mirror begins compounding. by noon, it has acquired a formal calendar invite + is attending everything.
once i arrive, i need my brain returned to me. i’m consulting with tessa on buying decisions, asking reps questions for an article + listening for the detail that might become its angle. an interesting answer changes the next question. i would like enough attention left to ask it.
the clothes have to work. so do i.
fifteen looks across five days gave the theory nowhere to hide. these four offered the clearest evidence: where the impact came from, what it cost to wear + whether the trouble paid.
the red sandals have already waived their right to remain silent.
the vest, allegedly
technically, this is a vest.
a difference of opinion between myself + the product description…