Why Capsule Wardrobes Suck
Cause they really do.
There was a time not that long ago, where people who wanted to have a “minimalist” wardrobe, or have a more consistent closet, or save a bit of money were probably told to begin developing their own capsule wardrobe. While the validity of that last statement is difficult to evaluate, there is no arguing that publications, “influencers” and Anna Wintour’s mucus haven’t been encouraging the white American suburbanite fashion sector (which is basically all of fashion in the entire world) to participate in this trend of developing “capsules”.
What is a “capsule”? A capsule wardrobe is a small collection of essential, timeless and versatile pieces of clothing in a variety of types, all the way from jackets to skirts to shoes, designed to simplify your wardrobe, while also giving you a bit of room to be creative. The aim is to have as little items as possible, and as such, it gives off this vibe of modesty and conservation.
But it only gives off a “vibe”. Much like a pyramid scheme or all the totally “nice guys” out there, once you peel off all the thick outer layers, of trucker jackets and neutral-toned coats, we are greeted to an expensive, immodest, kinda racist, also kinda classist and environmentally unfriendly… t-shirt.
How so?
Just like with many minimalist “solutions”, the capsule concept ignores that the poorest of us, to whom it is often targeted at, may have the financial ability to purchase one or two really high quality staples, but not populate an entire armoury with them.
However it is not just the poorest of us. For some reason, a very prevalent size for a capsule is 37 pieces(9 shoes, 9 bottoms, 15 tops, 2 dresses and 2 jackets), but numbers appear often from as low as 20 to as much as 50. Accepting this 37 piece figure, at an average price of about $30 a piece, which is unrealistically cheap, your capsule will cost you $1110. Not everyone has that much for just clothing and that is at the low end. Those items are heavily diminished in their level of quality compared to even just a $50 product. If even one of those $30 shoes was an incredibly unpopular and rare type of footwear like a pair of boots, it would become a blob of leather and glue within months. Which brings us to the next terrible problem with capsules — the waste.
Capsule wardrobes are supposed to be a fast fashion alternative, but instead they are just fast fashion lite. Organized environmental harm, yay. While a lot of people denounce seasonal wardrobes, it does not negate the amount of pieces that will inevitably get thrown away when a budding minimalist’s lower cost pieces become over-worn and unwearable. We just have to hope that most people are generous enough to donate or have it recycled, although a small percent of donations actually make it someone else’s closet.
Really the greatest and only benefit of the capsule wardrobe is psychological. It’s the feeling that you are doing something right. The feeling of having a clean closet and “everything your will ever need” and of discarding your materialistic ways. It’s the mental and emotional comfort of being convinced that you are doing the best thing for yourself and the world.
That feeling is worth a lot. The vast majority of pollution in this world is not even from regular people, but from billion dollar corporations. And yet the one who the responsibility weighs on is the average consumer who is just trying to get by.
But really the weirdest thing about this article, and capsule wardrobes, is that most people, on earth, probably already have a rotation of many pieces of clothing that they consider essentials that they seldom update. In viewing it from this perspective we begin to realize that the capsule wardrobe is just a repackaged, glitzy and expensive version of the way the bottom 99% of the planet lives.
Although maybe with a bit more style.