There’s a little-known fact about me: I’m a total clotheshorse. Always have been.
I might seem like an unlikely fashionista (omg, did I really just use that word? What is this, the early 2000s?), but it’s true — I love clothes. I’ve always dressed a bit differently from my peers. Not because I was trying to stand out, necessarily; it was because I genuinely enjoyed putting outfits together. I had a flair for the dramatic. Fashion — like writing, and later acting — became a way to express myself.
Even when I was a little girl, I knew how to shop the hell out of my closet and create a look that was just me. Here’s the proof:
When I got a bit older, I was (and still am) obsessed with magazines. Honestly, I might be one of the last people keeping print alive. I have subscriptions to Vanity Fair and Harper’s, and I still buy Vogue regularly. Back when I was a teenager, it was Seventeen, YM, and InStyle. I’d pore over the pages, studying the latest trends and seeing what celebrities were wearing. My very first style crush was Jennifer Aniston. Her clothes in the first season of Friends — as we know are simply iconic.
When my mom and I did our back-to-school shopping back in 1996, I’d hit up every store looking for the perfect baby tees, short plaid skirts, shortalls, tank tops, and knee-high socks — all very much inspired by Jen. On my first day of grade eight, I showed up in an outfit that looked a lot like this one:
One of my classmates came up to me and said, “Wow, you don’t dress like anyone else.”
And I liked that. Not because I necessarily needed to feel special (although, let’s be honest — as someone who dreamed of becoming a famous actress and enjoys being a public-facing figure, maybe I did just a little). But mostly, I liked that my style wasn’t just a random set of clothing choices. It was a deliberate expression of who I was — and who I wanted to be.
Then Catholic high school rolled around, and with a uniform, my day-to-day clothing was reduced to gray pants, black loafers, and a navy sweater — for five looooong years. I guess I was so desperate for some kind of creative expression that it explains why I cut my hair like “The Rachel” (of course I did), highlighted it blonde, then went completely dark and chopped it into a pixie like Winona Ryder (which was never fully appreciated by my peers — I was ahead of my time for that cut, or maybe just too young to pull it off), before going platinum blonde before graduation.
University was also a time for me to lean into trends — I was all about boho tops, flare jeans, and trying to make even the trashiest Y2K outfits (honestly, Gen Z/Alpha, I don’t know why you want to return to this era) look good on me. Even as I dug through the sale bins at Forever 21 in Union Square, I remember thinking: Does this work with who I am? (not an easy feat!). That’s the thing — I’ve always cared more about how clothes fit me rather than forcing myself to fit into them. I want to wear the clothes, not have the clothes wear me.
So as you can see, I’m very aware of how I want my style to feel and look. But somewhere along the way — especially in the last decade, as microtrends and social media burst onto the scene — I lost a sense of myself in my fashion journey. Instead of cultivating a style that was uniquely mine, I found myself adapting to trends, trying to fit in rather than stand out. And for someone who’s never really wanted to fit in, when I made this realization a few months ago, it surprised and disappointed me.
I had this epiphany when I looked into my closet and saw a ton of clothing and thought the cliché thought: I don’t have anything to wear — but also knew how silly that was. Of course I had clothes. But I didn’t know what was really me anymore. I felt like I’d lost sight of how to put together an outfit, since almost everything I’d bought over the last five years was so heavily influenced by what I was seeing online. I was more influenced by, Hey, this looks good on her, and I like this aesthetic and the feeling it gives me… rather than asking: Is this me, though? Is this who I am?
I knew something had to change. And because this is the year that I’ve claimed as “rebuilding” in so many ways — which I touched on last week — I knew that rebuilding also meant rebuilding my closet and my sense of style.
I had to get back to who Brianne is, what her style is, and what I want to wear. And more importantly, what I will wear. This is how I did it.
Step One: Cultivate a Sense of Personal Style
Start With Who You Are
When I decided to overhaul my style, the first thing I did was focus on me — not trends, not Instagram influencers, but my essence. I wanted my wardrobe to reflect my personality and flatter me, so I looked for tools to help me get there.
Using Astrology as My Style Compass
I’m into astrology, so I decided to lean into my Big Three:
Capricorn Sun — casually chic, classic, elegant.
Taurus Moon — grounded, comfortable, sensual, loves beautiful textures.
Pisces Rising — artistic, whimsical, a little bohemian and dreamy.
Each of these signs speaks to a different part of me — and my personal style had to reflect all of them.
Distilling My Style Into Words
A tip that I kept seeing online was to describe your style in three words. This can feel daunting — it did for me at first — so I gave myself permission to use as many as felt right. Here’s where I landed:
Classic. Elegant. Comfortable. Sensual. Feminine. Bohemian.
This may not fit into a neat little box, and that’s the beauty of it — it feels authentic. The key was balancing these elements so my clothes feel like me: effortless yet pulled-together, soft and grounded yet a bit whimsical. Capricorn keeps me polished. Taurus keeps me comfy. Pisces keeps me creative.
Step Two: Learning My Color Palette
Why Colour Analysis Became My Secret Weapon
You’ve probably seen it all over TikTok and Instagram — people sitting in a chair while different fabric swatches are held up to their face, or posts breaking down which celebrities are a “Summer,” “Winter,” “Spring,” or “Autumn.” The colour palette trend is everywhere, and for good reason: it actually works.
While I haven’t had my colours professionally done, I did my own deep dive into research on Pinterest, TikTok, and social media to figure out what flatters me most. Spoiler: When I wear colours that suit me, I feel better — I look better — and I actually want to wear those clothes. Otherwise, they just sit there, and that’s a waste.
Finding My Best Colours
Through my own exploration, I realized that I’m a Spring palette. That means warm, bright, and clear tones look best on me. Think light browns, warmer shades of green, peach, soft coral, light pinks, ivory — these colours light up my face and make my green eyes pop.
On the flip side? Cooler tones like navy blue, icy pastels, or super light baby blue just wash me out. Even though I like them in theory, I rarely feel good in them — and if I don’t feel good, I don’t wear them.
Why This Actually Makes a Difference
This might seem like a small thing, but knowing my colour palette has changed how I shop and how I feel in my clothes. If I know a colour isn’t going to flatter me, I simply skip it. That means less money wasted and a closet that feels more like me — full of pieces that make me look and feel my best.
Step Three: Ruthlessly Cleaning Out My Closet
This part was the hardest — but also the most freeing.
Once I really understood my style and my colour palette, I knew I had to take a long, honest look at my closet. I pulled everything out and went through every single piece, asking myself some tough questions:
Do I actually wear this?
Do I want to wear this?
Does this feel good on me — physically and emotionally?
And most of all: Is this me, or am I just holding onto a trend?
And let me tell you, it was an eye-opener. I found clothes with tags still on them, which gave me a pang of shame. Why had I spent my money on these pieces that never made it past my closet? Clearly, I’d had a shopping habit fueled by impulse and trends — and now I was feeling the consequences.
That was my lightbulb moment: I don’t want to do this anymore.
Cleaning out my closet became an act of intention and self-care — especially since I’m also working on rebuilding my finances (which I’ll dive into in a future post).
In the end, I filled three huge garbage bags with donations. And yes, there was some guilt. But there was also relief. (I even set aside a smaller bag for a Gen Z friend who could give those cute Forever 21 pieces a new life.)
Going through this process made me realize that most of my wardrobe was performative — clothes I thought I should wear because they looked good on the rack or fit some aesthetic I’d seen online.
But if a piece doesn’t align with my real lifestyle, my real body, my real style?
What’s the point?
That’s the question I ask myself now before every purchase.
And it doesn’t just stop at clothes — I did the same with shoes too.
Just because something looks cute doesn’t mean I should buy it. It’s about choosing things that feel good, fit my life, and that I’ll actually wear more than once.
And the best part? My closet is lighter, my style is clearer, and my next shopping trip will be way more deliberate.
Step Four: Shopping Intentionally — and Amplifying What I Already Own
One thing about me is that I’m not a super impulsive shopper. I can let items sit in my online carts for days, weeks, even a month — and by the time I circle back, they’re usually sold out. That’s my sign that it wasn’t meant to be.
But even with my patience, I’ve realized that my issue wasn’t speed — it was intentionality. More often than not, I was buying because something looked good on someone else or because it fit a fleeting trend, rather than because it was really me.
And that’s exactly what I want to change.
Now, my shopping habits look completely different.
First and foremost, I’m shopping my own closet. That’s where my real style lives — and honestly, most of us already have so much we can work with. By revisiting pieces I already own, I’m rediscovering my sense of style and creativity — the same one I had as a kid when I’d play dress-up with whatever was in my closet.
And when I do add something new, I’m much more deliberate. I keep my style words in mind — classic, elegant, cozy, a little bohemian — and my colour palette too.
Before buying anything now, I ask myself:
Is this really me? Does this align with my style? Would I wear it more than once? Does it make me feel good?
More and more, I’m seeing that accessories are where the magic happens.
A new belt, a pair of statement earrings, a bag that goes with everything — those small, thoughtful additions can take my existing wardrobe and make it feel new again.
I don’t need ten new tops when one perfect accessory can breathe new life into a dozen outfits.
That’s what intentional shopping looks like to me now:
buying less, choosing better, and amplifying the wardrobe I already have. ✨
Writing all of this, I realize I feel better about myself and my style than I have in a long time. By going back to basics — knowing what truly reflects my personality, my colours, my lifestyle — I feel like I can actually just be myself and present myself in the best way.
And honestly? That’s been the most rewarding part of this whole process.
I feel more relaxed about shopping than ever. There’s less pressure to chase trends and more joy in choosing pieces that feel good, last long, and work for me.
My closet feels lighter, my style feels clearer, and I feel so much more me — which, to me, is what style is really about.
Tell me:
Drop your thoughts in the comments too — I’d love to hear how you embrace style and shop your closet!
Thanks for being here! Next up in the series: I’ll talk about finances, fitness, and dating!
Love, Brie xoxo
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