Last year I vowed to not buy any mass manufactured clothing. I wasn't entirely successful, but I did pretty well. I bought zero pieces of what I consider "disposable" clothing: no new tees from big box stores, no new flannel pajama sets, which are a bit of an addiction for me. I did buy a number of pieces from Trashy Diva (all on sale, some significantly so), and I bought quite a few pieces of merino wool Icebreaker clothing, which have gone into regular rotation both on the road and at home. Yes, both companies manufacture in China, which I don't love, but we Americans aren't generally ready to pay the prices for goods made on our shores, so we limit ourselves. I did buy a domestically made piece from Alabama Chanin's machine-stitched line, and I bought a pair of socks from the Alabama Chanin/Billy Reid collaboration. When I was in Mexico, I bought several inexpensive embroidered cotton blouses out of necessity, because the temps were higher than expected. Not perfect, but better than years past.
In December, I sold several pieces of clothing and some boots to a resale store and pocketed $250. I am starting a large cull of the closet. Some things will find ther ways to various online marketplaces (the ones that may sell for enough to justify the headache), some are going on a garage sale pile, and some are going to the charity box. I have so much, and I am trying to separate me from my stuff. Stuff I love--or feel attached to, or use, or that I feel I may use--can stay. Stuff I would likely turn around and buy again can stay. Everything else is up for review. What am I making? Space. Room. Opportunities.
What am I not giving up? With rare exceptions, my knitting books. I plan to keep 90-99% of them. I like them. I page through them. I think about them. While I wish every book had a download code (electronic patterns are so helpful), I'm not about to dump my books. In fact, I am going to get some new shelves to organize them. It's a desperate need, and one I feel justified in.
So, again, I've made some plans I may not be able to fulfill, but I was able to use last year's goals as a touchstone. I knew when I broke my rules. I knew breaking my rules meant it was easier to break them again. But I'm giving myself some room for mistakes and room to grow.