2025 Spending Review: Stars, Dogs, and Pearls
The Passage reopens with a Happy New Year hug and two traditions rolled into one: the flinty appraisal of my clothing and accessory buys in 2025, and a post about pearls.
I'm posting a two-fer because there's not much to say about the clothing.
Stars: Parka, lingerie, pearls
1. The future is puffy
In a city where the windchill regularly exceeds -20C in winter months, you need a down parka; the synthetics feel heavy when used in a sub-zero coat.
I bought a Cotopaxi "Calidez" parka at half price just before the trade war hit. Storm cuffs, waterproof but breathable, detachable hood, and almost sleek for a puffer—what winter walker could resist? I won't be wearing it for a year at least, but this pre-emptive purchase made sense.
2. Busted
Searching for a Canadian source for good lingerie, I found Understance, and journeyed to New Braland, thanks to some serious discounts.
I not only replenished my stretched-out oldies, I bought big—let's say you could outfit a girl group—when they discounted several styles to $15. An uplifting experience, but I have to wear them before long, because elastic fabrics will degrade in the drawer. Shown, Zoe FlexWire Sheer Lift.
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| Photo: Understance |
3. And pearls!
My July birthday means I don't have to admit anything to you for a solid six months. I bought myself the pearl charms that hang on Pilar Agueci's chunky silver "Barbara" hoops (the 30mm hoops are sold with or without the charms), made with iridescent white 10mm x 20mm rectangular baroque freshwaters, the ideal intersection of practical and plush. Worn often, and super-versatile.
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| Photo: Pilar Agueci |
Christmas brought a special piece from Toronto designer Michelle Ross, whose pearls are always casual baroque and bold. Made of flashy pink-bronze 18mm coins on a brass chain, this gets noticed. It's hard to photograph the pearls, which are lustrous and more colourful than this shot:
This style is out of stock (pieces are sometimes reissued); if you see something you love, act. It is technically not my purchase, but Le Duc responded to such a heavy hint that I should include it.
A pair of Pooches:
Colourblock Rag and Bone sweater, and Kotn sweatshirt
Left: A consignment as-new Rag and Bone striped sweater of mohair, alpaca and wool felt divine, lofty and soft. I took it home, and the full-length mirror said, "Almost." When a petite shopper tried it on, it hit where it should, and she is a a good 20cm shorter. Lesson: A pleasing garment has to fit.
Right: Bought for spring walks, a high-quality brushed cotton by Kotn in a feminine cut: should work, right? But "natural" with warm overtones makes me look like a lightly-toasted marshmallow. This one hurt because it was final sale.
The red sweater was returned for credit, and the store is two minutes from my apartment, and the Kotn sweatshirt was given to a friend.
Grade for the year: B-. I should not have bought these two, but did keep my overall consumption low by unsubscribing from promotional mail and hardly stepping inside a retail store.
Consumption, considered
I now sort my personal spending into three categories:
1. Gear: The practical things you need to work, work out, or otherwise function. Examples include a stretchy skort for pickleball; studded boots for walking on icy streets; a sun-blocking shirt. Gear is often better-made than everyday wear; my Sugoi cycling jersey will hit the next millennium.
2. Goods: The vast category of retail clothing from decent-to-designer: life as department store. Here's where I can easily duplicate or impulse shop. We need Goods but not (in my case) seven pairs of black trousers. Thank you, Bridgette Raes for her concept of Splitting Your Wears, an outcome of overbuying Goods (and sometimes, as she explains, splitting wears is okay.)
Goods include generic basics, but also where trends like purse charms, the horseshoe jean (makes women look bowlegged, what's the appeal?) and the scary sneaker-heel live. Goods are not Bad, just overwhelming.
3. Grace Notes: These items (aka "hero pieces") please, comfort and may even thrill. They need not be pricey; you might find a stunning scarf in a charity shop. Occasionally Goods meet Grace Notes: a basic tee that finally, finally fits all your proportions—but Grace Notes is where you lift the basics, like this cherry-red bag:
Above, trapezoidal hobo bag, Alexel Crafts; price, $CAN 287.
More examples: The pearls; an enamelled pen that fits your hand perfectly; the coat with the deep collar that makes you feel mysterious; the fragrance that you love to smell on your bathrobe. One can overdo buying Grace Notes (my find-the-perfect-moisturizer spree), but live, learn and keep a hand on the rudder.
The plan for 2026: Grace Notes
I do not need any more generic Goods, but other people can sway me—and they are usually perfect strangers. Influencers (90% are marketers and that's putting it politely) tell women in the Passage that they must fight becoming invisible, a pervasive myth that drives worry, shame and consumption.
They want us to buy their Goods, beginning with shelling out for analysis and advice and then buying suggested items to alleviate the dreaded Invisibility. Image consulting is useful if one needs a reset or objective opinion, but fanning shame via a made-up condition is even more offensive than the days of "feminine deodorant".
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| An Instagram "Find Your Personal Style" ad |
Grace Notes support a woman as she is, rather rather press her to "erase the signs of aging". They speak to us, not about us: talisman not trend; expression, not emulation; personality, not package.
Happy New Year to you, my festival friends in the Passage, thank you for being here.
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