I bet Joe would wear only black and white for an entire year. No colours. No fun.
Nothing but crisp whites and flat blacks. Every item in my wardrobe would somehow fit into these two colour groups. Just like that, a ridiculous idea born over drinks became my life for the next twelve months.
This was three years ago, but if I had to guess, that bet was probably the single most impactful wardrobe experiment I’ve ever done. Oh yeah, and I’m kinda obsessed with wardrobe experiments.
Long story for another day but it comes with the territory of overanalyzing your stuff all the time. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and-_ae937ee5-49a6-4807-a651-bfec868edb7c.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wore Black and _ae937ee5-49a6-4807-a651-bfec868edb7c” /> So how did I get here?
The back story starts with my friend Dave. Dave has terrible decision fatigue in the morning thanks to owning too many clothes. He’s always late to things because he just can’t seem to pick out an outfit to save his life.
Over dinner one night three years ago (ironically discussing this very problem) he casually remarks, drunkenly, “I spend like half an hour every morning staring into my closet.” His girlfriend immediately rolls her eyes. “You know what would solve your problem? Dressing like a monk.” “You’re right,” he slurs. “I should just wear black and white for like a year. Military guy or something.” “I bet I could,” I counter.
Total lie, my whiskey was now speaking for me. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and_-e95102fb-2de8-4566-bb23-801116760874.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wore Black and_-e95102fb-2de8-4566-bb23-801116760874″ /> Dave and his girlfriend pause. The table goes silent. They’re both looking at me like I just confessed to killing someone. “You?” his girlfriend asks incredulously. “Ruth?
You of all people who wrote that blog post about why navy isn’t neutral? ?” Ah yes, let’s not forget how I was basically anti-colour way back when. Ironic, considering where we’re about to go. She had a point.
If anyone at that table could *not* pull off such an absurd challenge, it was me. “I mean thats *exactly* why it’d be interesting.” I continued, diving headfirst into foolishness. “Think of all the money I’ll save! It’ll be the ultimate wardrobe minimalism experiment.” Forty-five minutes later and we’ve arrived at me quitting all colours for a year. No navy (blasphemy), no earth tones, nothing with patterns, logos, or bursts of colour.
Only flat white and sleek black, plus all of the grays in between. Hell committed. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and_-ae937ee5-49a6-4807-a651-bfec868edb7c_3.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wore Black and _ae937ee5-49a6-4807-a651-bfec868edb7c_3″ /> Round one: Preparation. Cleaning out my closet took up an entire weekend.
I packed up every article of clothing that wasn’t black, white, or grey and stored it away. Literally shipped the box to my parents house in Sacramento and had my mum vacuum seal it like radioactive leftovers. “What are you doing mum? Are you dumping me?” She laughed nervously. “I’m just trying an experiment.” Easy for you to say.
Fast forward to Day 1. I’m standing in front of what was once my closet full of colour but now resembles…well, a tech bro’s closet. Throw on some black jeans, white button up, grey jumper and black trainers and I’m out the door in under thirty seconds.
Walking outside I immediately felt this weight lift off my shoulders. It’s crazy how one less daily decision can make you feel. Like I actually had time to enjoy my mornings rather than rushing out the door.
Psychoanalysis of my emotions aside, it was pretty dope. For the first week everyone I talked to asked me if I was ok. Somehow people thought giving up all colours meant I was depressed or ran away to join the circus. “You know some sort of cult,” one barista at my regular coffee shop told me when I ordered.
I explained my experiment and shrugged. “Oh word? So now you’re basically Steve Jobs.” And just like that I was Mr. Jobsylvania. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__2bc032f8-ae1e-4948-98.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wore Black and _2bc032f8-ae1e-49″ /> The Steve Jobs comparison stuck with me all year.
Apparently there are only two conclusions people can make when they read “guy dressed solely in black and white.” He’s either the next Mark Zuckerberg or he just got fired. The real curveball? Two months in I started to actually *enjoy* getting dressed in the mornings.
When you limit yourself to just two colours, how you wear those colours suddenly matters way more. Fit became everything to me. How a piece of clothing hangs off your body is 100% dependent on the cut and fabric, which is why I started shopping way more tailored clothing than before.
Got a new favourite pair of black trousers every other week it felt like. My tailor José even started recognising me. “Hey crazy black guy! Another black one?” He laughed, but loved the challenge of getting my shirts and trousers to *perfectly* fit. “You only wear black and white?
When you wear monotone, it’s all about the fit.” Inner fashion snob out. I noticed others reacted to me differently as well. Colleagues at work seemed to take me more seriously all of a sudden.
I’d been blogging as “the guy who writes about clothes” for years at this point, but now I was “the guy who writes about clothes and only wears black and white?” Talked to my boss about it and he didn’t think it changed how he viewed me. Still could have been subconscious bias. Did dressing more monochromatic make me come across as more put-together?
Who knows, but interesting to think about. Online dating was another story. All of a sudden I looked insane to women on Tinder.
Flashback to my profile photos: <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__2bc032f8-ae1e-49.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wear:black-and-white__2bc032f8-ae1e-49″ />48-98.jpg”/> “The vest?? ?” Said one girl after we matched. “Is this like a lifestyle blog or something?” Another woman unmatched me after telling her I “reminded her of a serial killer.” She saw an article about some guy who killed his whole family and wore only black and white. Cool story bro. Six months in I ran into the first real life situation that terrified me.
Work happy hour + red wine. How was I supposed to enjoy wine knowing that if I spilled it on my white shirt I’d have to change? Sneaky bartenders cut this brandy with red colouring or something.
Damn. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__2bc032f8-ae1e-49.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wore Black and _2bc032f8-ae1e-4″ />ea48-98.jpg”/> Laundry became this whole ordeal. Simplified? Sure.
I only sorted darks and whites now. But on the other hand, keeping your black clothes black is damn near impossible. After a few washes my lighter grey jumpers had faded to beautiful charcoal.
Went nuts trying to figure out the best laundry routine to prolong the life of my brightest whites. One perk? <a href=”https://joewears.co.uk/building-a-holiday-wardrobe-that-actually-fits-in-a-carry-on/”>Travelling</a>. Packing was a piece of cake since everything matched everything.
Couldn’t forget an item because it didn’t match. Went from OVERpacking my suitcase with “just in case” outfits to streamline wildly. Instead of worrying about having options, I had options by default.
Been hooked on easy travel packing ever since. Nine months down, life was good. Until I quit my job.
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Yep. Decided to take a leap of faith and pursue jewellery design full time around my clothing bet anniversary. Thank god I did this challenge when I did.
Office parties took a sharp turn downhill. Quickly became known as “the black and white guy.” Like that instantly summarised my entire life into two sentences. People at work would introduce me to their coworkers by saying, “This is Joe, he wears only black and white for an entire year because…” Ok folks, I get it.
Original. Holiday parties weren’t much better. Someone actually asked if I was “doing performance art or something.” Ok mate cool story you dress like a banker I dress like whatever I wanna wear joke’s over let’s go eat shrimp.
Got seriously annoyed when people would congratulate me on completing my challenge like it was some sort of accomplishment. Trust me, it wore *really* did not feel like it. Started thinking about colours I missed the most.
Surprise surprise: it was blue. Light washed denim jeans, sky blue shirts, bright blue highlights on oxford shirts. Stopped by my parents house that weekend to gaze longingly at all my exiled clothes. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__8f593db6-ea44.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wear:black-and-white__8f593db6-ea44″ />44-4c08.jpg”/> Climbed into my mums basement and cracked open a vacuum sealed bag from my closet.
Reached in, pulled out this gorgeous burnt orange cardigan I used to love wearing. Then… I felt something strange. Guys, I legit cried when I pulled out that jumper.
There’s no way to describe that feeling of holding a piece of clothing you love and can’t wear. Made me realise how much colour I took for granted. Was home for a week so busted out that cardigan Wednesday.
Felt equal parts amazing and guilty the entire time I wore it. At month eleven I was content. Too content, if I’m being honest with myself.
Went down to my parents’ house one last time and smuggled a black zip-up hoodie back with me. Celebrated the final month wearing this beauty. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__8f593db6-ea44.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wear:black-and-white__8f593db6-ea44″ />44-8.057.jpg”/> Because while I was psyched to see all my closet mates again, I knew there was a chance I might hate being confronted with all my options. What if I struggled putting outfits together?
Took me a year to train my brain away from thinking about clothes. Would I have forgotten how? Alarm went off.
Time to face music. Pulled on my outfit for the last day of wearing only black and white. Slipped into my favourite pair of black selvedge jeans that had essentially molded to my body over the past year.
White Oxford I ruined until it was butter soft. Black cashmere jumper with just the slightest bit of texture. Stood in front of my closet and stared at every colour I hadn’t seen in a year.
Went with a navy jumper vest I always loved wearing & black jeans. Easy enough. Caught my girlfriend kissing my brother goodbye in the foyer.
She’d hired a photographer and staged a whole “colour freedom party” for me at a bar around the block. Kinda retarded, but she convinced me it’d be great content. Best.
Decision. Ever. Friends showed up with gifts.
Shirt after shirt poured in that I swore I’d never wear. Tie-dye hoodie, Hawaiian shirt, even some ridiculous red socks. Promised I’d wear each one of them at least once.
Trust me when I say that’ll be *no* fun. Woke up the next morning with no expectations, but seriously overwhelmed by colour. Took my time getting dressed, trying my best to take it all in.
Picked out this red plaid shirt I forgot I owned and paired it with my trusty old black jeans. Kinda felt like Christ ascending from heaven. <img class=”size-full” src=”http: //joewears.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/im1979_What-Would-Actually-Happen-If-You-Only-Wore-Black-and__8f593db6-ea44.jpg” alt=”im1979_What Would Actually Happen If You Only Wear:black-and-white__8f593db6-ea44″ />ea44-4c08-847e.jpg”/> Moral of the story? I kinda loved every minute of it.
That’s right, a year wearing almost nothing but black and white had me itching for more clothes. What the actual fuck? Only way I can describe it is that I learned *too much* about my style.
Went from having no idea what I liked to knowing *exactly* what styles, cuts, and colours work for me and what doesn’t. The problem? My closet was filled with decades worth of clothes that didn’t fit that newfound style.
Word of advice: If you’re thinking about doing something like this, go in expecting to edit your whole closet afterward. You’ll save a fortune in clothing you *thought* you loved. Outside of shopping, I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about reintroducing colour.
Everything from choosing outfits to shopping was so easy! Did I *actually* enjoy spending hours picking out what to wear in the mornings? Would I miss that part?
Nope. As it turns out, I’d traded expensive clothing decisions for my time. But what I didn’t realise was how much *mental* space those decisions took up.
No more stress about what to wear in the mornings. No obsessing over that one weird stain on my favourite white shirt. All that extra time added up.
Wasted less time throwing clothes away.
Learned what pieces *earned* a spot in my closet. But man, do I feel old saying that burnt orange cardigan is now one of my winter staples.
TLDR: Wear less. Clothes you actually love. Wearing only black and white forced me to pare down my wardrobe to a handful of outfits I felt extremely confident in.
Half my closet ended up completely unused, which was eye opening. My style’s evolved a ton since then. Still predominantly neutral with colour as accent pieces instead of full outfits.
Buy way less, but spend much more intentionally when I do. Yellow is my favourite colour now. Oh and I broke up with Dave.<|end_of_document|>
