Why I started Hang Ups (and why it all started with a navy uniform…)
There was a time when I wore navy every single day. Not because I liked it - absolutely not. Navy, in my entirely personal view, feels like the nerdy older sibling of black. Black can go to rock concerts and biker cafes. Navy (again - entirely my own feelings here) symbolises regimen, restraint and blends into the background.
A few years ago I was Marketing Director for a Cornish health company where every employee, from the scientists to the farm team, wore navy. The owner of the estate wanted the colour worn to create consistency, professionalism and a shared identity.
The trouble was... every morning I stood in front of my wardrobe feeling like I'd disappeared.
While my colleagues loved the simplicity of knowing exactly what to wear, I found myself trying on the same handful of navy tops, jackets and dresses, desperately searching for one that felt like me. None of them did. I'd change two or three times before finally admitting defeat and leaving the house feeling uneasy and uncomfortable.
I thought I was being ridiculous (I may have slight diva tendencies when it comes to my clothes!), but the problem got worse and worse. So I wanted to learn more about why it became such a struggle for me.
Was it really about the clothes?
At the time (and probably still now), if you'd asked me what I valued most, I'd have answered with these: Adventure. Freedom. Creativity.
Yet every morning I was putting on clothes that, to me, represented almost the opposite. I didn't feel adventurous. I didn't feel creative. I didn't feel like the colour and formality of the uniform allowed me to present these values about myself in any way.
Clothing is one of the ways we communicate who we are, often before we've even spoken. I felt like I was communicating something entirely different about the woman I was, wearing a navy suit, or navy court shoes, a navy shift dress or shirt and trousers.
I began to struggle with making confident and creative decisions at work. I felt so ‘out of whack’ with myself, less powerful and more anxious.
As I explored the psychology of clothing for an essay at the London College of Fashion, I found a quote that appeared to sum up my feelings perfectly. The 1985 author of Adorned in Dreams, Elizabeth Wilson, describes the problem: ‘While fashion appears to some to be superficial, to others fashion has a depth that echoes the depth of human self-awareness.’
It wasn't confidence I was missing.
It was coherence.
I knew that wearing navy, no matter what I chose, wouldn’t and couldn’t match the person I felt like on the inside. I was self-aware enough to realise that this incoherence between inside and outside was the thing that was causing the lack of confidence, anxiety and brain fog at work.
When I realised what a huge impact this vaguely ridiculous colour problem was having on my career, it made me wonder how many other people may have experienced something similar. Not necessarily a visceral hatred of the colour navy, but perhaps a lack of self-awareness that causes uncertainty when dressing, an inability to match their wardrobes to their minds. What if really brilliant styling wasn’t about providing a set of rules to follow? What if it was really about connecting how someone feels on the inside with how they present on the outside? Discovering this about myself had such a profound impact I quit the job and never wore navy again (100% true, unless you count jeans and I don’t think you can).
That's why I created Hang-Ups.
People often assume Hang-Ups is about fashion. It isn't. It's entirely about identity.
Our wardrobes are rarely random. They're little museums of our lives. They hold old versions of ourselves, forgotten ambitions, comfort blankets, wishful thinking and sometimes a few glorious reminders of who we've been all along.
The dress we keep for the person we hope to become.
The suit that makes us feel like a corporate imposter.
The ten identical striped tops because they're safe.
The black hoodie we reach for because it's easier than making another decision.
Once we start paying attention to those clues, getting dressed stops being about following rules or chasing trends. It becomes an act of self-awareness. That's what I mean by Lose your Hang Ups. Keep what suits you. Not just keeping the clothes that suit your body. Keeping the clothes that suit your values. Your personality. Your lifestyle. Your sense of humour. Your ambitions. The woman you are today, rather than the one you used to be or the one you think you ought to become.
