This was the capsule wardrobe I wore for the worst week of my life

“I’m wearing it for him.”

Two Sundays ago I had to jump on a plane home to Adelaide because my nonno passed away. In that same week, I got made redundant from my job. I’ve never had to embrace that much loss in such a short space of time and I really wasn’t sure how I was going to get through it.

When big things happen in life for the first time, you can’t really plan for how you’ll respond. You might’ve done the work to be great at expressing your emotions in healthy ways. You might have a great support system around you, your friends and family, your therapist – and still feel a little lost.

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For me, loss has been a reminder that we’re not really the ones in control. And that’s fucking scary. It’s just also very real and weighty. It’s just a fact we’ve got to wade through.

And, while I can’t deny drinking wine and crying on the couch with close friends has helped, and that I found unexplainable beauty in banding together as a family in a way I’d never experienced before – fashion also played a huge role in how I got through those two difficult weeks.

Without realising it, I expressed my feelings through my clothes on every single one of those difficult days. I challenged myself to put together a cute outfit with the small capsule wardrobe I brought in my hurriedly-packed suitcase because that was something I was in control of and made me feel good.

An ex-lover once told me caring about what I wear on a daily basis is a superficial practice. I strongly disagreed with them then, and I do even more so now. Dressing is ritualistic. It’s a time to take your body in and appreciate it, by celebrating it with clothes and giving it back some beauty, for all the amazing work it does to take care of you daily.

It’s a method of self-protection, a procuring of armour that best suits your needs for the day. A black dress with stylish cut-outs for a work event, an oversized shirt and tailored pants for an interview, a pair of sparkly shoes on a day that requires a few extra smiles.

Whether you’re into fashion or not, what you wear on your body says a lot about how you’re feeling on the inside. For me, it’s a way to feel nourished from the outside in. And there’s nothing superficial about that. It’s why I kept an outfit journal through the worst week of my life. Here’s what I wore and wrote.

Day one

Today I arrived in Adelaide wearing my relaxed olive green silk pants from Marle, with my Basquiat x Cotton On tee and some patent leather combat boots. I accessorised with an array of jewellery made sustainably by my friend Heather, who has a label called Fencesitter.

I originally put on a dress this morning but something about it felt wrong. I felt too pretty. I wanted to feel comfortable to be sad, but still look chic. This outfit is much grungier than my usual aesthetic, but for some reason it just made me feel so good. This might be one of my new favourite combos.

Day two

It was randomly very warm in Adelaide today, which totally goes against the family vibes I’m experiencing right now. Today everyone sat around the table in unusual silence and I uncharacteristically didn’t want to consume any food or wine.

Despite this, I wore my favourite new crocheted top from Auguste the Label, a Nobody Denim maxi skirt, my mum’s sandals and a fun beaded necklace from Sportsgirl. My outfit is the very opposite of how I’m feeling inside, but the sun is still shining, and I dare say that the colours have actually helped not only me, but others too.

Day three

Today has been a hard day. I woke up tired. Grief is exhausting? We hosted people at our house for lunch to discuss funeral plans. I wore a plain white Maggie Marilyn shirt with a vintage white silk nightgown I turned into a skirt. I was feeling a very angelic vibe, so I popped on my favourite pearl drop earrings from Fencesitter to finish the look. This outfit made it feel okay to feel floaty.

After lunch, I got called into a meeting to be told my role was being made redundant. I cried into my webcam to my boss and the HR lady. Thankfully, I had a therapy session today. I’d forgotten I booked it in, but my therapist texted me to remind me. I thanked past Laura and my therapist. I walked to the park behind my house and cried for another hour on Zoom to her and it felt really good to tell her how alone and useless I felt. She said it’s okay to ask for what I need and that she loved my outfit.

Day four

This cut-out piece from H&M serves as a dress I can wear to dance practice (I’m a ballroom dancer) as well as a casual but edgy look to wear while running errands. I caught up with my longest friend and she gave me a cuddle and we drank some wine at the first bar I ever worked at. I wore heeled mules from Wittner but changed into my dance shoes a few hours later and let off some steam at the studio.

Day five

Today was cold and I was feeling very drained and sad. I decided to go with it. I wore a Bec and Bridge one-shoulder black dress, my mum’s chocolate brown cardigan, my combat boots and my favourite sleek Szade sunnies. I felt really yucky on the inside but tried to find a balance between comfy and badass. I think I did okay.

Day six

I felt a bit over being sad today, so I threw on a dress in anticipation to go out into the world and socialise. I ended up wandering around the city by myself, visiting my mum at work and meeting a friend at a pop-up restaurant for some snacks. This is my favourite outfit so far. The dress is 2001 Louis Vuitton I bought at an incredible vintage store in Athens. I put my Khya Studio hoops with it, and my Wittner loafers. For a moment, I felt invincible.

Day seven

I can’t seem to have any creative thoughts even though my feelings are overwhelming. I want to write them all down but can’t find the right words. I put on a vintage chiffon dress today but it didn’t feel right, so I changed into my Marle pants again and my platform combat boots because they’re comfy, understated and cool. I feel like I’m leaning into the queer, more masc side of myself this week and it feels good. I also wore a chain from Sydney-based label Beyond Bea.

I’m wearing my new favourite shirt from Melbourne-based tailor E Nolan. When I went and visited her in her studio, she told me old European men inspired this shirt. Before she’d even told me that, I was drawn to it. It reminded me of my nonno and his friends, all sitting around smoking cigarettes and laughing about something they’d never tell us grandkids. Today, I’m wearing it for him. It reminds me of him in this uplifting way – as the man who was always in the brightest shirt, singing an opera classic at the head of the table to whoever would listen.

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