Coordinates: the Original “Capsule” Wardrobe
Unless you never get on Pinterest or watch an organizing show on Netflix, you are probably aware of the modern trend to be as minimalist as possible in one’s closet through a “capsule wardrobe.” I have read a lot of articles on capsule wardrobes. I’ve pinned many pins on Pinterest featuring such wardrobes. I’m completely enthralled by the idea of a capsule wardrobe. Yet, despite all the reading and dreaming and dumping of things on my bed to purge and purge again, I do not have anything remotely resembling a capsule wardrobe. I’ve come to realize that there are two main reasons behind this.
The first problem I have with minimalism and clothes is that I just love wearing clothing. I like different fabrics and textures and colors and styles. Probably most people wouldn’t realize that to see me dress anymore, but I’m only just starting to do the emotional work of embracing my “mom-bod,” so to speak, so my clothing mostly consists of stretchy pants and tops. This is a personal issue that I’m planning working on this year. Even if I am able to release that shame and struggle (there’s an entire other blog post), there is another reason that capsule wardrobes don’t work for me.
The second reason that I have found capsule wardrobes so difficult is the lack of color and pattern. The entire concept revolves around neutrals and simple patterns (black and white stripes, for example), with a pop of color here or there in a blouse or a pair of shoes. But I like color! I like butterflies on my shirt and teal-colored leggings and pink shoes with bees on them. As I’ve been cataloging all these patterns, I realized that the answer (maybe) is to try a “coordinates” wardrobe.
Coordinates patterns began appearing in the 1960s, like the ones featured at right, but they really took off in the 1970s and continue to be a staple of modern pattern companies. The idea is to have a bunch of pieces all designed to fit together proportionally for a “mix-and-match” look. The brilliant thing about sewing your own coordinates wardrobe is that you could use ALL THE COLOR. You want your “neutrals” to be brightly-flowered Lily Pulitzer print pants and jacket and your accent top to be a solid hot pink? Done. Perhaps you want all cottage core style florals with a little plaid thrown in. Done. You decide! The fact that the pieces are already vintage styles and designed to fit together means half the work is done for you. No wondering if that shade of blue on this new top is too saturated to work with your one other patterned item. You pick the fabrics and you build the pieces and you live your wonderful, colorful, vintage-inspired wardrobe life.
If anyone tries this, let me know! I’m not ready to commit to that much sewing while I’m deep into pattern cataloging during every spare minute I have, but I’m tucking this idea away for future reference. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find a way to be more minimalistic after all.
