Ellie Nap Dress, £115, Hill House

I started slowly, buying outfits as I needed them. When my brother-in-law hosted a birthday lunch in December, I nearly froze in a long, floral dress and ankle boots; cue a dash to Zara for the perfect accompanying coat.  For a country walk at a National Trust estate, I overnighted Blundstone boots from Amazon. As I rebuilt my wardrobe, I realized that as much as I might enjoy a bright, trend-led piece, it will soon fade into Instagram oblivion. Classic pieces are always worth investing in, but this season’s print was just as good from H&M as a high-end fashion house. I found myself loving Alessandra Rich dresses, but I have opted for frilly 80’s frocks from vintage sellers online instead. For investment pieces, I have leaned into handbags, shoes, and jewellery, which can last forever and elevate any outfit.  

Throwing out all of my clothing has given me a sense of freedom. I am no longer tied to a massive, overflowing wardrobe. My clothes fit my lifestyle, and most importantly, they fit my body. I don’t feel emotional guilt towards pieces in my closet, whether I wear them or not. If I tire of a piece, I hand it down to a friend, donate it to a charity shop, or resell it with an app. This year, the daffodils brought a renewed excitement for my favorite dresses, and no pressing need to spring clean.