Not Another Low Buy
not trying to woman-splain shopping to ya, I just love playing devil's advocate
Keto. Paleo. No buy. Low buy.
Low carb. No carb. Sugar-free. 75 hard.
Now— identify each of those as a diet, style challenge, and/or nonsense Seussical rhyme. Ready, set, Go!
We’re used to gym memberships and diet plans ringing in the new year but now we toast our glasses to shopping plans too1. And what’s the difference? The idealized transformations we seek are the same: slim down (your wardrobe), finally be happy with yourself— and your closet.
But just as diets aren’t sustainable, neither are strict shopping rules. At least for me. I’m not pooh-poohing no/low buys, I’m just offering a diff perspective.
Editing note: Not so fresh that other Substackers haven’t already offered their insights on this topic! I really enjoyed
’s take on this a while back in Big Undies— after watching Emma Chamberlain’s decluttering video. And as I was writing this, both and published newsletters adding to this discourse (1 & 2). So maybe this discussion is already saturated, but I had fun writing this, so I’m going to share anyways.I love good food and I love good fashion— they are what get me out of bed in the morning. Cutting out those ~indulgences~ (I hate that word b/c it implies wrongness) is never the remedy it seems. Its side effect? Sucking the joy out of life.
Now, I’m not encouraging you to mindlessly buy everything that your little fashionista heart desires, just like I wouldn’t encourage indulging in only sugary sweets while completely omitting protein and veggies.
I’m saying that you’re smart and complex. Work with that, not against it. Rethink your commitment to simple, impersonal prescriptions.
Manipulation is more effective than telling someone what to do.
As a morally-grey2, indecisive, over-thinker, rules often entice me— all shiny, clear, and black-and-white. However, I’m quite bad at following them. Mostly, because I consider myself clever enough to find a way around even the most stringent ones.
I roll my eyes when people adhere to some obscure notion of goodness. However, my own internal values do a pretty good job of keeping me in line.
So instead of instituting a low buy, I plan to tug at my existing moral inclinations. I will manipulate my utterly pragmatic self— One of the most useful things my therapist taught me is that it’s ok to manipulate yourself! After all, you know you best.
Here is some of my personal food for thought:
Billionaires piss me off. In addition to the sh*t quality, this is great motivation for a no Amazon year. Bezos comes with a convenience fee: that ugly, unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach. Same goes for other uber fast fashion retailers. Anger and resentment can be great motivation.
I love treasure hunts and puzzles. Instead of surfing TRR or Zara’s (horrendous) site, in 2025 I plan to continue my sustainable and historic fashion deep dive— discover new brands and learn more about how those clothes that I love so much are made and where they came from.
Organization is my happy place. In 2025 I’m committing to logging all purchases in a detailed, timely fashion. Not only will this scratch the Type A itch in my brain to data-fy my life, it also naturally de-incentivizes purchases via added work. You want it? Then you gotta write it up in detail. And face it. Forever. In your precious Excel sheet.
I care about THE iconic diva herself— our planet. This simple reminder may discourage certain consumption behaviors.
Adding a moral cost is especially relevant if you’re not explicitly limited by budget.
Or say your financial limitations are ambiguous. A strategy I’ve found more effective is to ask: What would I enjoy more— This jacket? This thrift haul? Or a similarly-priced alternative? I.e., a trip to visit friends, an art class, or a gym membership. It might not actually be a 1:1 trade-off, but this strategy can help ground your purchases.
More reasons to question whether a low buy is right for you
1. It can cramp your personal style discovery
Especially if you’re still figuring out what you like, trial and error is necessary. Limiting yourself to buying only 5 items in 2025 may hold you back from freely experimenting with more volatile pieces. You may end up stuck in safe style territory because trying something new and different doesn’t seem “worth it”.
For example:
I thrifted a pair of periwinkle jelly shoes this summer for five bucks. I love them and the joy and new outfit formulas they’ve brought me this year— Which I would have never known had I imposed limits on myself and likely disregarded the jellies as just another impractical, microtrend-influenced, impulse buy. Similarly unlikely, is that pastel jelly shoes would have been one of the 5 investment pieces I carefully selected for the year— even if I were in The Row’s Mara shoe tax bracket.
The serendipity of those jelly shoes at that point in time was perfect. I didn’t know I needed them but in retrospect, they were worth it. Sure I had other less successful thrifts, like a pair of clear jelly shoes. But I couldn’t have known then what I know now, which is that the plastic’s pop of color makes all the difference between a “meh” and an “aha!” fashion moment for me.
2. Is shopping actually bad for YOU?
I spent a ridiculous amount of time shopping in 2024. I bought an exorbitant number of items. Or did I?
Is shopping actually bad or does society just tell you that it’s frivolous? For me, shopping is comparable to admiring art in a museum or gallery— regardless of whether I buy anything, it’s a valuable and fun experience.
When ~80% of the clothes I bought in 2024 were second-hand, the cumulative amount of money spent was well within my means, and my time spent shopping brought me joy without detracting from other responsibilities, where’s the issue?
And even at the extreme, is there any real harm in a constant revolving door of thrifted clothing? Certainly the planetary and financial impact remains minimal.
^^See how I feel the need to defend shopping as a legitimate hobby?
Yes, when you start instinctively surfing clothing sites to self-soothe and buying things for the dopamine rush there might be a problem. And a low buy could solve this problem. Or it could be like putting a bandaid on a bruise.
3. Salt to taste
Is your favorite chocolate chip cookie the exact one from the back of the Tollhouse cookie wrapper? Probably not.
Personally, my fav cookie is a modified version passed down from my BFF’s grandma (under-fill the sugar, use salted instead of unsalted butter, extra salt + vanilla, and under-mix the flour).
I like to think about style practices as recipes rather than rules. With a recipe you adjust to suit your own needs, preferences, and circumstances. You salt to taste.
4. Before envying its winners, ask yourself— is this a game I even want to play?
Like many other Substackers, I posted a reading wrap-up this year. I read less books than everyone else I saw. But who cares?
Goodreads challenges and reading goals work for some people but not for me. It would get toxic and then I’d stop enjoying books and would feel resistant to devote any extra time or care to them.
So ask yourself— Why do I want to play the low buy game?
5. When resolve is born out of shame it rarely survives
Sometimes, it really is all about framing. Like I said, manipulating yourself works and is not inherently bad.
In 2025, I’m not trying to buy less, I’m relishing in my already amazingly curated wardrobe. I’m shopping because I love shopping while being mindful of things I already care about (the rich not getting richer, the environment, etc.).
TLDR;
So this title is kinda clickbait. In 2025 I will be doing a low buy— if we must call it that. But my own version of one. There are no rules about budget or number of items or shopping frequency. Just reminders of who I am and what I value.
As a fashion lover, just saying “I need to buy less in 2025” doesn’t work. Instead, I’m digging deeper into what I love.
xx your favorite rule-breaker, Audrey3
Do people need a new “problem” to fixate on now that Ozempic exists?
Slytherin pride 🐍
Really enjoyed this - felt like a breath of fresh air amongst the new-year-no-buy regimes! ✨ I think you’re absolutely right that going cold-turkey is not effective for consistency, but that it’s the conscious effort to make measured choices of what you are buying, why you are buying it, and looking at where you are buying from which are the everyday micro-activism’s which make a BIG difference in the long run!
A low-buy month or year feels like a solid starting point when control is lacking. I will start here. I plan to do one this year—tailoring the rules to my needs and factoring in the likelihood of spontaneous purchases. I also appreciate the idea of moving away from strict labels and restrictions once a healthier relationship with shopping is established. I appreciate this reflection, and I aim to do like n5 (in 2026, or even before: reframing everything) thank you for sharing!