Getting Off Half a Fit
A closet audit for the clothes I abuse, avoid, and keep pretending might want me back.
My closet has become a hope journal on hangers: full of crushes, delusions, and versions of myself I planned on becoming.
I want all of it, and somehow almost none of it wants me back.
I am, at my core, a dirty maximalist capitalist and proud of it. The thrill of finding that perfect item, the sales associate telling you, “those were made for you,” and the rush of adding to cart — it is the type of bad decision that briefly feels like self-improvement.
But when the tags are off and the return policy is voided, we face the reality of our overstuffed drawers and comically full closets. Here are the items I just can’t quit and the ones that represent the man I want to become.
The J.Crew Giant-Fit Oxford
Why I wear it too much:
This has been my most-worn piece of clothing by a mile. I like the fit. It’s always on sale.
In the interest of full journalistic transparency, I have six of these and am wearing the blue one as I type this. This shirt is my Linus blanket. I wear it with gym shorts and suits, and it never looks out of place.
Why I’m sick of it:
As the expression goes, there’s always someone tired of fucking her. Though this shirt would represent a major upgrade for anyone drowning in performance polos and gingham button-downs bought by moms, girlfriends, and wives, it has turned me into a one-trick pony.
Snuggled deep in the comfort of my slightly oversized oxford, I have lost sight of what really matters: getting off massive fits.
What I should wear instead:
Emily Dawn Long Jeff’s Shirt.
Jeff’s Shirt is the EDL piece that gets me going: personal story, great colorways, and enough detail to make my stack of oxfords look less like taste and more like a tic.
I could have been a coward and referred to the delicious Wythe Oxford that I also own in an abundance of colors, but when getting dressed, we must not take the path of least resistance.
I am not saying you need this shirt in every color. I am saying I bought one a few months ago, wore it a grand total of one time, and have been treating it like it belongs behind glass ever since. But dry cleaners exist for a reason. Live in your clothes, don’t just visit them.
Would I recommend it?
J.Crew Oxford: Overwhelmingly, yes. You should buy ONE of these shirts. Whenever I put in an order at J.Crew, I add one to the cart out of fear that one day they will stop making it. If I feel that strongly about a shirt I’m actively complaining about, that should tell you everything.
EDL Jeff’s Shirt: Yes. Pick one that feels approachably ambitious and start wearing it like you live in it.
UNIQLO Barrel Pants
Why I wear them too much:
There aren’t many better feelings than having pants that just fit. When you’re running behind in the morning, a grappling match with your top button is enough to push any sane person to the brink. That is why we all love pants with a little give.
These give you room to breathe without looking like you have fully surrendered to a forgiving waistband. The barrel leg gives you just enough of an “I do clothes” look in a room full of ABC dupes.
Why I’m sick of them:
When the day comes and you have to put on pants that do not stretch, you are in for the battle of your life. Your trusty wedding suit no longer clasping is not a surprise. It is a jolt of reality. The elastic has betrayed your tailoring.
NOT ALL OF YOUR PANTS SHOULD STRETCH.
Do not let your pants lull you into submission. I, like any other full-blown adult, need pants that do not negotiate. No drawstrings. No secret give. No quiet little waistband bailout plan.
Worse, any fashion-guy effect the barrel leg once had for me has worn off now that it has become part of my uniform.
What I should wear instead:
Casatlantic Tanger Trousers.
Call me Kurt Angle the way I wrestle with this top button. I have had these pants for a few years, and though I have very few notes on them, they have plenty of notes for me.
The leg is wide without looking silly, and they serve as a great base for anything from a T-shirt to a blazer. But I have been betrayed by drawstrings and elastic, and these do not always fit me the way they do in my hope journal.
The dream remains alive, even if the button currently disagrees.
The less punishing route: The Ralph Lauren Andrew Pant can usually be found on eBay for much less, for those who want accountability on a budget.
Would I recommend it?
UNIQLO Barrel Pants: Yes, but be careful not to fall for their trap. You are not shrinking; the pants are just negotiating.
Casatlantic Tanger Trousers: If they speak to you like they do to me, yes. Nothing holds you accountable like spending real money on pants that don’t give a fuck about your feelings.
adidas x Wales Bonner Karintha OG
Why I wear them too much:
I don’t buy sneakers often — a direct response to growing up in New York during the hypebeast era. After learning everything I could about sneakers in my younger years, I checked out sometime around the Galaxy Foams.
In sneakers, I look for ease without going full NPC. I have cycled through 990s, Sambas, Stan Smiths, and any other white sneaker trend you can think of, including an extended stay in a pair of Golden Goose sneakers that I wore through the soles. This pair is my next sacrifice.
Why I’m sick of them:
I’m sick of them because I shouldn’t be sick of them yet.
I was excited when I bought these. I am always looking for a white-ish sneaker, so I hunted down my size and ordered immediately. I love the way they look, and for the first few weeks, putting them on still felt special.
But as I lazily slip them on most mornings, I now greet them with an eye roll and a level of disdain a shoe this beautiful did not sign up for. I have turned them into a prison of my own creation.
What I should wear instead:
Gucci Horsebit 1953 loafers.
I was between two here. The Belgian Shoes Mr. Casual is probably my favorite piece of footwear I own. I wore them on my wedding day. But ultimately, my pick is the Gucci Horsebit 1953 loafer.
I bought my Horsebits as a reward for opening my first office, at a time when I really could not afford them. They made me feel like I was in charge, which is a dangerous amount of emotional responsibility to give a loafer.
The Horsebit is different from the Belgian. There is no IYKYK about it. Everyone knows. These are what I should be wearing when I want to dress up my self-imposed uniform, or when I need a kick in the ass to actually get dressed. To wear them is to show you care, and you want people to know.
Would I recommend it?
adidas x Wales Bonner Karintha OG: Yes. Watch your step. Anything this easy can go from “great everyday shoe” to “foot prison with better branding” very quickly.
Belgian Shoes Mr. Casual: Resounding yes. I love these. I wore them on my wedding day. They look great beat up, and sizing can get weird. Just a heads up.
Gucci Horsebit 1953: Yes. If you’re looking to splash out on timeless footwear, you could do a lot worse. I bought mine when I had no business buying them, and I still think they were worth it.
The Layer I Refuse to Wear
Why I keep doing it:
Day in and day out, I go from an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned office and convince myself what I’m doing is enough.
The truth is, in my day-to-day life, a sneaker not everyone has and a little play with proportion is going above and beyond. It’s easy. It’s comfortable. And to the untrained eye, it probably looks like effort.
Why I’m sick of it:
A chore coat, a knit, even a belt. Something to turn clothes into a fit.
I keep putting on clothes without getting dressed. The bones are there, but I feel incomplete as I scurry from one climate-controlled area to another. Never having to remove a layer or undo a button, I have been swaddled into mid by the thermostat and automatic start.
I yearn to dress.
What I should wear instead:
Our Legacy Welding Shirt.
To know me is to see my Mr. Porter wishlist. This shirt held a residency on said list for the better part of a year. It is one of those rare wants that became a need. I planned outfits and envisioned a life with her, and when the most recent sale came, I pounced.
I regret to inform you the tags are still on.
As much as leather needs to be worn to find its final form, I neglect it, stowed away like Rapunzel in a garment bag in the back of my closet. This is not a break-in-case-of-emergency layer. It exists because sometimes the outfit needs to stop being convenient and start being dressed.
There is nothing lazy about it, which is why I can’t look it in the eyes.
Would I recommend it?
Our Legacy Welding Shirt: Yes, if it speaks to you. But this is not really about the shirt.
In a deeply unironic sense, I recommend shopping your closet. Give away or sell the stuff you know you are never going to wear again, then find the few things you have been too lazy, scared, or precious to wear and get a fit off.
The clothes are already there. The problem is us.
Comment the piece you have been too lazy to wear, then tag @farefilone in the fit pic when you finally stop being a coward.
-SP
What piece in your closet are you too lazy, scared, or precious to actually wear — and what lie have you been telling yourself about it?