Renting clothes: Fabulous or foolish?

Thanks to Alexandra Schwartz' tart New Yorker article (October 22, 2018), "Costume Change" about the rise of Rent the Runway, I wondered, Am I out of it?

A certain population have essentially stopped buying clothes, and rent everything except underwear and shoes. I'm running through pros and cons—and may be influenced by some recent soirées for which I scrambled to pull something together.

Cons: Why Not to Rent

1. Lousy value proposition
Despite what the RTR co-founder Jennifer Hyman says, rental is not "value" in investment terms, it is the incurring of fixed cost. She says a subscriber spends just under $2k and get $40k worth of value, meaning you get to temporarily wear 40k worth of clothes. Like a gym membership, this is a fixed cost which turns into a sunk cost if you do not max the allowed limit of pieces for your plan.

Let's say you do use the full benefits of your plan, and receive four items every week, or even more frequently. There's zero equity in your closet. Almost all clothing depreciates, but not immediately.

2. Mistakes follow you
Jennifer Hyman says, "Every woman has the feeling of opening up her closet and seeing the dozens of dead dresses that she's worn only once." (Dozens? Who are these women?) Rental services mean you're not staring at your mistakes, but Schwartz tried the service and still selected a number of dogs.

Maybe there's some learning from a flop, but geez Louise, if you read The Vivienne Files, you will learn how to make wise choices—for free.

3. Ick factor
You are wearing used clothes; RTR endeavours to get many rentals out of each garment. Renters say they can sometimes smell a previous wearer once the item (drycleaned before being sent out) comes to them.

4. Environmental evil
Ten thousand boxes go in and out each day at RTR's New Jersey facility and the volume is growing. (They operate a few storefront locations, but the vast majority of rentals are fulfilled by shipping.) The drycleaning plant is the largest in North America and maybe the world.

5. Clothes hold memory and meaning
In 2012, I posted about the elderly cashmere I still wear. Six years later, I continue to do so— and the makers are still producing these styles. I don't want to dispose of what makes me feel good and holds memories.


Pros: Why Rent?

Carven coat

1. To wear clothes you can't afford
In marketing terms it's called "badge value": you're off to work in a Marni skirt. It would be a blast to wear this Carven fake fur coat, channel my inner Debbie Harry for a month, and then say toodles without guilt or fuss.

$2k a year to dress way above your pay grade is a done deal for many subscribers; it's fun to play dress-up in an endlessly-refreshed closet.

2. To dress for a special occasion or situation
The RTR origin story involves Hyman's sister's purchase of a $2, 000 Marchesa dress to wear to a wedding. She thought, There has to be a better way.

RTR (and similar companies) do offer a one-time option, used mostly for formal-occasion wear, but also handy for job interviews, maternity clothes and those annoying events when someone demands that guests wear a specific colour and it's one you've never bought.

3. Renting equals ease
I thought of other subscription rental services I've used that never existed when I began to earn a living: music (Spotify), magazines (Texture) and movies (Netflix). I am not even discussing the Japanese company from whom you can rent mock relatives.

Renting a wardrobe offers the same benefits: choice, access and convenience. Is this service much different from hiring regular house-cleaning? Leasing a car? How about a vacation time share? And let's not forget that some women hate shopping more than scrubbing shower tile. What is one's time worth?

4. Bonding: Sisters of the travelling dress

Monique Lhullier dress

Whether the item is "curated" (which in this era means "someone chooses it for you") or you scroll through enticing options and pick, the process is super-sticky. Previous wearers leave feedback, and best of all, photos. Sometimes, women who wore a dress 'followed' successive wearers like a cheering squad.

Even I, who avoid user comments like a termite avoids plastic, got sucked into photos of the same cocktail dress worn (in different sizes) by fifty or sixty women.

A pricey privilege

Renting is antithetical to building wealth. As the frugality bloggers counsel, clean your own house, cook instead of eating takeout, learn to do simple repairs, use the library. But we live in a materialistic culture and technology now enables a fabulous wardrobe you don't have to buy.

I remember a dream I had when a teen: that my closet was stuffed with new, alluring clothes. The dream was so vivid that I could stroke a soft blue dress. But at dawn, there hung my grey flannel school uniform, my Levis, my same comfy terry robe. What seemed a dream, now entirely possible!

What to do? Shake hands with a devil in that Monique Lhullier red dress or continue buying? If I needed a one-time special dress, I would definitely do it.

If the service were available here, I'd love to try it for a month or two, to zhuzh with abandon and release myself from being so damn practical—and could well imagine getting hooked. But I'd only rent the high end clobber, that's the point.

For now I am still a buyer, and the next post is my 2018 Spend Report, in which I analyze how I did.