It’s a fact well known among people who know me well that I am mightily attached to my clothes. And always have been.
When I was a kid I loved clothes. I used to mourn the fact that I’d grown out of certain beloved items of clothing. When I had, my mum passed them on to a neighbour who had three daughters, all younger than me. I distinctly remember watching the oldest daughter like a hawk for signs that she was not taking good care of the two favourite dresses that I had loved all through grade one. In my defence, I had yet to learn that when one gives someone a gift, it’s not on loan, but theirs to keep, and to do with what they will.
I also adored the dress I’m wearing in my grade five school photo below. The pink and white gingham top extends to an empire waist marked by a narrow grey belt. The rest of the dress is pure grey to match the buttons. Mum bought this for me on one of our summer shopping trips “across the lines.”
Every summer we’d stay at my grandmother Knowles’ house, a few miles from the American border. Nana would drive Mum and us kids over the border to Presque Isle, Maine to shop for school clothes for the upcoming year. And since Nana knew all the Canadian border guards, we were never asked to declare our purchases which were snugly tucked under the back seat on which we sat. As Nana duly told Fred, or George, or whichever guard was on duty that day, we’d simply been on an innocent, day-long trip to pick up the few groceries that sat in a bag on the floor by my mum’s feet. In the sixties, cross-border smuggling was a back-to-school tradition in our family. In most families who lived on the Canadian side, actually.
When I was fifteen I was mightily attached to the grey suede bomber jacket below. You’ve seen this photo on the blog before, in one post juxtaposed next to a 2016 photo of me in a similar style of suede jacket and jeans to emphasize how certain elements of my style haven’t changed over the years. This jacket was one of the first truly cool pieces of clothing I owned. And one of the first purchases I made with money I’d earned at my first part-time job.
My friends and I worked for my aunt Phyl one evening a week serving hotdogs and hamburgers in the canteen at the Lady Beaverbrook Rink during “International Wrestling” matches. Between the heat from the grill, steam from the bun steamers, and the hot air emitted by the pop machines, not to mention the body heat from the seemingly never-ending crush of wrestling fans jockeying at the counter to order their food, we literally sweated to earn our money. We came home smelling of fried onions, and five dollars richer, money we used to lay-away some new item of clothing: a top, a new pair of jeans, or a soon to be beloved suede jacket. Took me a month to get my jacket out of hock. This was NOT fast fashion, my friends.
I guess the psychology behind our emotional attachment to our clothes back then, at least those of us who loved clothes, stemmed from the fact that we seldom had new clothes. Seldom by comparison to today. And as such we waited impatiently, and longingly, for those occasions when we might hope to get new clothes: Christmas, our birthdays, back-to-school shopping, or when we’d saved up from our part-time job. And then we chose pieces that we loved, and would love for a long time. “Long time” being defined according to how fast we grew, or how quickly we wore them out.
I’ve been thinking, these past few days, of clothes to which I have had, or still do have, an emotional attachment. These thoughts were triggered by a post I read on Tiffanie Darke’s newsletter It’s Not Sustainable.
In the article entitled How to Dress Better, Tiffanie aims to motivate those of us who are struggling to “dress better,” to be better fashion consumers. She highlights a few new sustainable brands, and one of these is Cloth.Work, founded by former Net-a-Porter buyer Sasha Sarokin. When Sarokin left Net-a-Porter to go it alone, she “went back to school and learned how to build, make, and produce responsibly.” And according to Tiffanie, while she was studying how best to make sustainable clothes that people will want to keep in their closets for years, Sarokin mused on the “psychology of attachment.”
And that phrase jumped out at me. “What is the psychology behind our attachment to our clothes?” I thought.
Sustainable fashion brands and slow fashion advocates, like Tiffanie Darke, who encourage us to be better consumers also encourage us to get emotionally attached to our clothes. We are encouraged to buy clothes we love. Preferably clothes which are well made, and which will last. That way we can continue to wear the pieces we love because they are still wearable. And when something serves us well and we look after it, we grow attached to it. To how it makes us feel.
Like my navy Max Mara pantsuit below. I bought this suit at Holt Renfrew way back in 2002. The jacket is beautifully made with sharp shoulders, a wide cloth belt that cinches in the waist, and wide-leg pants. It was a silhouette that suited me back in 2002. I wore the suit for a few years and then put it away. It felt dated.
But I didn’t get rid of the suit because I’d developed an emotional attachment to it. It had served me well. It made me feel amazing when I wore it. Maybe it might serve me well again one day.
A few years ago I pulled it out again. The jacket still fit, but the pants did not, so I took them to the tailor. I ditched the belt, and wore the jacket open with a casual tank or tee shirt and my sneakers. And I still loved it. In fact I think I love it more now than I did in 2002. It suits me and my style. I put that suit on, and I feel like myself.
That’s me in my old suit, below, with my sister Carolyn at our great-niece’s wedding last year. I am emotionally attached to my suit; we have history together. I’m definitely emotionally attached to my sister; we also have history together. That’s my jacket she’s wearing. I was hoping she didn’t get attached to it. Ha.
The psychology of my attachment to my clothes now is quite different from when I was young. I still love clothes, but scarcity doesn’t enter into it anymore. I can afford now to buy what I want, when I want. But I choose, most of the time, to shop wisely and to buy what I love. And when I love something it’s because it suits me, and makes me feel like the best version of myself when I’m wearing it. If that something is also well made, then I’ll be loving it a long time. And as long as I can keep styling it in ways that interest me, I’ll hang onto it.
Like the pink Vince cashmere sweater below. Purchased in 2017, it’s become an integral part of my spring-summer wardrobe. Sometimes I grow tired of it and pack it away for a season. Then I haul it out the next year and remember how much I like the colour, the quality of the cashmere, and the cut. And I fall in love with it all over again.
So what do brands need to understand about the psychology of attachment to create clothes that we will want to wear year after year? Maybe that we want clothes that are well made, and that last. And which suit us, and make us feel amazing, even if we’re not fifteen anymore. If something suits us it won’t stop suiting us in a month, or six months, or two years.
Fast fashion brands thrive on the opposite assumption. But we want brands who realize that we don’t want to shop for new things every week. Especially if those things fall apart after a few washes.
We want to fall in love with our clothes. We want to become emotionally attached to our clothes. To care for them and keep them for a long time. And if we can find quality clothes that make us feel amazing, then it should be easy to be a good consumer, to shop less and to value what we already own. Don’t you think?
So, tell us… what’s in your closet that you are emotionally attached to, my friends?
P.S. Be sure to go read Tiffanie’s article. You can find it here.
53 thoughts on ““The Psychology of Attachment” to Our Clothes”
I think there are different types of attachment to clothes. For me, if an item of clothing is associated with traumatic or sad events then I can’t keep it no matter my past associations with the piece. I simply cannot overcame the “bad” associations. For example I couldn’t keep the clothes I wore to either of my parents funerals.
Maryann, I agree…when my dad died unexpectedly when I was 23, I intentionally wore clothes I didn’t much care for and almost never wore. I knew I would never wear those again.
I agree. I wore such a nice black dress for my Moms funeral, which I packed away in a Goodwill donation bag. I could not stand to look at it again. I knew I’d never wear it again.
These posts really struck me. I made a beautiful black coat dress meticulously in my early twenties from a Vogue pattern. Then my beloved grandmother died suddenly and I made the mistake of wearing the dress to the funeral. I could never wear it again and it sat in a bag for many years.
It may be odd, but I don’t associate the clothes I wore to the funeral of a loved one with their death. I wore a purple linen dress to my mum’s celebration of life. That’s because I used the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph as the beginning of the eulogy I gave for my mum: “When I am an old woman I shall wear purple….” To me the poem epitomized my mum and her never give up attitude to life.
That’s not odd at all – that’s lovely.
I agree with you! My mother passed in 2002 and I bought a beautiful black dress trimmed in ivory with a matching cardigan especially for the occasion. I love that dress and it reminds me of my mom and how much she loved clothes (good quality clothes, often on sale as she loved a bargain!) She passed that love of clothes on to me and it just makes me so happy when I wear that dress 💜
Forgive me for not stopping by in forever, Sue! Writing and marketing a book makes you slip down a one-way rabbit hole… for six years. You and I have always loved Max Mara–I still mourn for my prize sweater I somehow left in the emergency room in Austin, Texas, 20 years ago– and if we visited on Messenger like you and your friend, Jeannie, did, I know we’d find so much to talk about. I imagine her death hit you hard. I’m sorry. I have yet to lose a close contemporary, and I know it will be devastating. XOXOX, Brenda
Ah… Max and me… we go way back. Ha.
Congratulations on your memoir, Brenda. I’ve toyed with the idea but have never had the courage to begin. Good for you to begin and finish what must have been a difficult book to write. And congrats on getting it published. That is awesome!
The suit I wore to my son’s wedding is being worn to my granddaughter’s wedding next week. I still love it…flowy olive skirt with a longish olive jacket…many good memories. Now 30 years old. New blouse though…the other one disappeared over the years…
I still have the designer jacket, bought secondhand, that wore to both my sons’ bar mitzvahs. I wonder if I can still get into it – my grandson’s bar mitzvah is coming up in the fall.
My mum had a sort of wedding suit. We bought it together for my step-brother’s wedding in the early eighties, and she wore it to my wedding in 1989, and to my niece’s in the nineties as well. A well fitting suit in a colour that looks good (hers was deep pink) is hard to find. why tinker with perfection?
I have some favourite items, most of which are in the loft waiting on my losing weight. 🤷♀️
However, I’m getting better at buying more strategically so that I’m not wasting my pension! I’ve always known what suits me, and getting better at adapting to my larger size (!) and what my purse (wallet!) can afford. 🤣
I’m finally learning to adapt to my larger size as well. It’s hard isn’t it?
Well there’s my wedding dress . I’m pretty emotionally attached to that . It’s been sat in a huge cardboard box now for almost 57 years & I really should get rid of it . I thought perhaps one of my nieces might use it , it is still a lovely dress , heavy white crepe , very similar in style to our dear Duchess Megan’s but they preferred a more off the shoulder style . Such a lot more skin at weddings these days . I thought I might pass it on to a charity shop but changed my mind when a friend told me young men buy them for ‘ fancy dress ‘ costumes at music festivals. I couldn’t bear that . So it might have to be a ceremonial burning on the garden bonfire ? What a a shame , it was expensive – 10 Guineas !
I was reading that in some cities there are sewist groups that use old wedding gowns to make burial garments for still born babies or those that die shortly after birth. I am guessing that shrouding a child is the last thing on a grieving parent’s mind. I believe there are volunteers that make the gowns and little hats. It sounds macabre but I think it’s a sweet way of using a wedding gown that nobody wishes to wear. I am looking for a group in Canada who performs this charitable act to gift my mother’s beautiful gown to. She lost a baby at birth so it would be a more fitting use for it than sending it to Goodwill.
I’d not heard of that . It’s a lovely idea but the groups I’ve found doing it here in the UK seem to have more dresses than they need right now . I’ll hang on to it & see if the situation changes . Thankyou .
I have to admit that I’m not liking the trend for so much skin in wedding dresses these days. Not sure how much 10 Guineas is… ??
Love, love, love your writing. Love the photos, especially of you in your 5th grade dress and in your suede jacket. What a beauty you are! I love clothes too. I have too many. I have been trying to come up with an editing method. I saw an instagram post recently that made sense. It was, don’t do a big overwhelming edit, go thru five things, decide what to keep or not. Do it regularly. I think I can do that.
Thanks, Mary. I think that five thing edit process sounds like a good idea. And perhaps use Amy Smilovic’s idea to make a “No” pile, of pieces that don’t fit or which no longer suit you, and which will be donated. And a “Maybe” pile of pieces which still fit but which you don’t know how to wear anymore. Then later after you have edited everything, you can make final decisions on the “Maybe” pile. I tried that and eventually ended up wearing some pieces in the “Maybe” pile again, and getting rid of others.
You were born chic I think ! That photo with the grey jacket, and a model girl figure !
If it fits and I like it then I still wear it. Until it falls apart.
But I do have a high cupboard where I keep ” happy times clothes “, and I can’t bear to get rid of those.
I have a garment bag of pieces which I am attached to but can no longer wear. One day I’ll donate them to a vintage store.
You and I are exactly alike in this. My mother is an outstanding sewist and made me wonderful clothes over the years that I loved and still dream about. A purple tweed skirt, a pink linen shirt dress, a strapless full skirted and boned gown for prom. And then some things I bought myself like a mustard swing coat ( from Le chateau) or my Howick wide leg jeans.
But I also want to talk about your memoir section in this post. So evocative and well written! Hace you considered writing a memoir? Maybe this is the creative pursuit you’re looking for? I’d recommend Dani Shapiro’S Still Writing.
I ordered that book. I read the sample of Kindle and loved it. But I ordered the hard copy. I have a small collection of books of writers writing about writing.
Currently channelling memories of the white overalls I bought at Le Chateau. And the super high-rise, super wide-leg Howick jeans I owned and had to always retrieve from Debbie’s closet when we shared an apartment because she was forever borrowing them. 🙂
My emotional attachment is to my scarves–I remember where and when I purchased them and I a couple of my mother’s from the 1950s. Frankly, I’ve never understood not being emotionally attached to my clothes. If I liked something enough to purchase it, I want to love it enough to wear it over and over. Fast fashion has never been a part of my life as it seemed such a waste of money and sentiment.
Like you, Heidi, I still have a couple of my mother’s scarves from the 50’s that I love to wear. Now in my 80’s, my wardrobe consists of mostly neutrals…no prints ( they make me feel old), the odd stripe. My hair is white and I still feel my best in basic black or charcoal…not very exciting, I know. Have lost some weight this past year so have been pleasantly surprised to find out that I can now wear some of my favourite items of clothing I just couldn’t bear to part with.
Love hearing from you every Sunday morning, Sue, inspiring me to love what I own, tweaking it with the odd purchase to keep current but not necessarily trendy.
I have some really old scarves too. Including ones I wore in the seventies. They’re easy to store, and when you can pull out a scarf that is just the right colour to go with something new it feels great. 🙂
Sue, I agree. Keeping classic clothing is a good idea. It will stand the test of time plus as you said, it will make you happy. Why not?
I agree, Linda… why not?
What a lovely post, Sue. You reminded me of the times in the sixties, in late August, when my mom and I would take the tunnel bus from Windsor to downtown Detroit. Of course I was in need of new cloths for school, and had saved baby sitting money. Detroit was in its hay day and was often referred to as the jewel of the North. Woodward Avenue, and J.L.Hudson department store were a shoppers dream. How I loved my new outfits, and no matter how hot the first day of school was, I donned my new plaid A-line skirt, button down blouse and tennis sweater, and felt like a million bucks.
These days it seems harder to find cloths that I feel great in. Styles have become so very casual and I have a hard time putting together outfits that feel like me. That said, I plug away, mixing and matching the pieces I have and sometimes get lucky, and actually like what I see.
Thanks to your posts, I’m shopping less,
with more intention, and not settling, just because it fits.
I’m sure you had way more choice shopping in Detroit than we did in little Presque Isle. But still, it’s all relative, isn’t it? I love the sound of your first day of school outfit. 🙂
What a wonderful post! Your words brought back memories of visiting my aunt and hoping that my cousin had outgrown some clothes. I also recall my mother dressing my sister and I in mother/daughter dresses- not my favorite trend. My salary from my first jobs as a teen was used for buying clothes. Now I try only to purchase clothes and accessories that feel true to my style- not interested in trends or having a full closet. Thanks for sharing with us – Mary Lou
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I always looked forward to being able to wear my older sisters’ clothes too. 🙂
Great post, Sue…brought back memories. I grew up in the Niagara Peninsula. The big thing was going ‘over the river’ to Buffalo…could get Susan Van Heusen shirts etc. It was just thrilling to get these stylish clothes even when I was just a young teenager. Most of my current clothes are ‘Me Made’. I feel attached to them and keep them for a long time – as long as I don’t ‘grow out of them’😉.
Ha. I’m with you Miriam, in hoping I don’t “grow” out of my current wardrobe. 🙂
Funny you should write about “old” clothes right now. I have a long (ankle length) scoop necked denim jumper that I purchased in the early 90’s. I love it and wore it a lot then as it was all season. Hubs and I were going out of town to shop a couple of days ago. It was a warm day and I didn’t feel like wearing pants so I donned the jumper and a light white Tshirt. It felt amazing and I felt very confident. I now realize I have other items if clothing that are 25+ years old, are classic styling and I shall revive them to live another day. BTW I’m 85 and I still love fashion.
The nineties are back in a big way the last couple of years. The minimalism and the slightly oversized looks in particular. And I’m here for it. Ha.
I am moving soon, downsizing to a smaller home. This – and the fact that my future lifestyle is likely to be a lot less “dressy”- is forcing me to weed my wardrobe in a pretty radical way. Parting with jackets that I have spent years carefully collecting is miserable. And I suppose it is time to let go of the skirt I wore to my engagement party in 1967…
I like to wear my more dressy workwear pieces with casual ones…when it works. It doesn’t always.
An evocative post…I remember saving summer job money to buy ‘school clothes’ Consulting Seventeen magazine or Glamour or Miss Chatelaine for inspiration! I never made it to the States but found what I needed in Yonge Street boutiques.
I have clothes in my closet purchased for someone forty pounds lighter and I wish she would come and get her stuff!!!;)
My big problem is parting with shoes… some are clearly past their prime but others are gently worn just dated….my aunt ( in her ‘90’s) was wearing a still stylish squared toe Aquatalia pump to a family function and told me she bought them in the early ‘80’s “when they knew how to make shoes” they looked amazing! So hard to cull the herd…
I remember consulting Miss Chatelaine as well. Problem was that the styles I loved sometimes took years to get to Fredericton.
I’ve been thinking about this idea of attachment to clothes since I read your post yesterday. I also grew up with little money for clothes so when I invested my meager earnings in them it was a momentus thing and I cared for them carefully, often washing by hand and dismayed when others mishandled them. I remember a girl at camp wearing a pair of my shorts without asking and feeling so violated!
I don’t really see this as attachment so much as a rational approach to clothes buying. I’ve always been comfortable wearing my clothes for many years because I mostly buy things I truly like and that fit me well. It seems to me that the opposite approach of changing things for no reason is irrational. I’ve never been very fashion-oriented in the pure sense of following all trends though so perhaps that is the difference. I also have many older Max Mara pieces which I bought because the styles were relatively timeless and I like classic natural fibers, decent construction and classic colours. In fact in some ways MM is anti-fashion in my opinion as its coats and classic suits might have subtle of-the-moment details but they are generally not very tied to specific fashion trends or periods. I have a summer dress I bought at MM twenty years ago in a classic soft brown linen silk mix and a beautiful scarf I bought at the same time that could still be worn today without skipping a beat (if the skirt weren’t a but narrow – need to se if I can take it out a bit else will donate!)
When I think about true attachment to clothes I think about things I made myself or were gifts from others, so more irreplaceable. I have one sweater I knitted years ago that was a surprising sleeper hit despite being very rustic and ordinary and a cardigan my mom knitted for me when I was in my twenties, even though she is not a very good knitter (she would admit this!). I don’t know why she knitted it for me and it doesn’t even fit well. It’s huge for me. She has said I can rip it out and knit something nicer, but when I look at it I think of her struggling away at it, her impatience with sewing showing in the way it was sewn together, and the buttons she chose. I will likely never get rid of it. Other clothes I’m happy to retire or give away as my shape changes or to put away for a while when they don’t feel fresh (like your lilac sweater).
I agree, Steph. There’s sentimental attachment and then there’s loving something for how it fits and how it makes you feel when you’re wearing it. I keep clothes for both those reasons.
Love what you said about MM being anti fashion… or at least anti trend. 🙂
Yes, anti-trend makes more sense. That’s how I view it. I always felt when I was buying an MM piece, which generally cost more than what I had previously been willing to spend on clothes, was a kind of investment in having a piece that would stand for at least ten years. That’s proven to be true of all of the pieces I’ve bought from them, including from their lower tier (e.g. Weekend or Sport). I think I’ve written this before that they don’t have quite the same reputation anymore among Italians I know. They all say that the prices of the main line are much higher now relative to what you used to be able to get from the brand as a staple years ago. I usually only visit Weekend periodically when I’m in Italy for cigarette pants as their versions fit me well, so can’t say definitively that something has changed, although I’ve noticed an increase in prices for pieces I don’t consider finished, e.g. unlined. If I’m going to spend hundreds of Euro for something I want it to at least be lined (e.g. jackets), so am reverting to tailors and my own sewing to fill the gap. When I was recently with G’s sister in Italy she told me that she saw a documentary saying that there have been some exposés on poor treatment of workers, but I didn’t see it so can’t confirm.
Such an interesting topic…and fascinating comments. This got me to thinking about my “sentimental clothing stash” that has moved with me through 13+ moves. One benefit of so many homes is that I’ve been very intentional about what I will and will not move. My “stash” includes dresses from a number of meaningful occasions or associations…all, never to be worn again. I have my mother’s very sophisticated wedding dress – a beautiful satin (originally silver, now a beautiful mauve pink) shirt waist with rhinestone buttons (1951), along with my 1982 wedding dress and the mother of the bride dress I wore at my daughter’s wedding. I have also included the other end of the spectrum – funeral attire. Perhaps I’m hopelessly morbid, but I didn’t view keeping the dress I wore to my mother’s funeral as a negative. Her passing, at 83, was mercifully quick and she’d lived such a remarkable life. I took great care to honor that with my clothing choice – a vintage black wool dress. I knew it would make her smile. It does the same for me every time I see it hanging in my closet. A sad day, of course, yet a meaningful one that honored our very special relationship.
Sounds as if you have a wonderful “fashion archive”, Sarah. 🙂
Great post, Sue, and so many interesting comments. I have such an emotional attachment to my clothes. I know I need to sort through them but each time I do, I just can’t seem to let go of more than a handful of them. One day soon I know I need to be more ruthless!
I also agree that a memoir of yours would be beautiful to read (yet a formidable task to write!)
Ah thanks, Genevieve. Maybe one day. 🙂
I have a few very well loved pieces. As mentioned they are good quality and built to last and in classic styles. Two that come to mind are a lovely grey wool knee length car coat and a red suede slightly cropped jacket that I enjoy every Christmas season. I get compliments on that one regularly. Both are about 20 years old now and with no end in sight. I recently bought a beautiful leather black moto jacket and I’m thinking it’s going to be a classic for me as well. These items make every outfit better and can be dressed up or down easily.
Coats are always keepers if they still fit, aren’t they? I’m betting that leather jacket becomes another keeper.
I still have clothes from the 80, 90 and beginning of the 00, when it still fits….
I even have some jumpers my mother knitted for me along with a white mohair cat scarf (in the form of a long white cat with the tail and full head), a blouse one on my elder sisters wore in the 70’s, a jumper that my late elder brother wore when he was young, and one of the coat my late father wore in the 70’s which I wanted to have custom remade for me… but I left it in the attic, no what is the word for the dark and musty room in the very basement?, so I’m afraid of the state it might be now.
So yes I am attached to clothes and the memories that go with them.
My treasure: the tiny boots my father wore when he was christened.
And I am still wearing some clothes I bought years ago because, honestly, I am really not into shit stuff that one can throw after one wear.
That is the reason iam mostly buying second hand, clothes and shoes, nowadays: not only second hand but, as much as I can vintage. By this I mean from the 80 and 90 at least, with stuff well tailored, good quality, good fabric. I don’t care with trend or fashion, I’d much rather be like Katharine Hepburn!
Enter… Max Mara now, like you Sue I like this brand. One has to be careful though as they have a line made in china, so not entirely rubbish but still. But often I found that some Italian brands are still quite good. They are classic, with a lot of color and prints, which I adore, and I plan to keep them a long time, even the “fancy” clothes which I wear everyday, hoping I will not gain too much weight (I already shifted by one size…).
When one wear fast fashion, one does not have time or will to link memory to some garments one is going to toss the day after wearing.
And although, like you again, i have way more means to buy quality clothes than when i was younger, I still take a lot of time and reflexion to buy. This alas does not avoid the miss and fails which happen sometimes when ordering on line but I try now to resell as quick as I can.
I know none of my nieces or grand nieces will want any of my clothes (and, anyway, I am way too small) but that’s life.
I love shopping vintage too. The staff in vintage stores always seem so well versed in fashion. And they are fun to chat with too. 🙂
Late to the party here but hopefully useful…
Two topics came to mind reading this post.
The first is the memories of what others wear. I love my mother’s classic, go to outfits. When there was a wedding or something, she didn’t go shopping because she had some great outfits suited for the occasion. She would get them cleaned. I have an aunt who wore the same light purple top to several years of birthdays. When I saw her in it, it was delightfully time to relax and enjoy a party. The top was not special, she is not a fashionista, it was just that she was wearing her Party Top. I think as much as we love our outfits, so might others.
Second is the Alfred Toffler book Future Shift. He theorized people might wear disposable clothes. He realized he was wrong after, that people are attached to their clothes.
Thanks for the great posts 🙂
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