Issue #181: My "No Buy" Year is Already the Best Decision I've Made in 2025
Plus a conversation with Jess Kirby all about hers.
📺 “The Big Door Prize” on AppleTV+: Alas, I learned about this show from year-end roundups of shows that aren’t getting renewed, but was still intrigued enough by the premise to begin watching. Similar to other existential, yet arguably cheesy, shows like “The Good Place” and “A Man on the Inside,” it skirts the line between the ridiculous and the profound, when a mysterious machine appears in a small town spitting out cards that declare each individual’s Life Potential.
🍚 Honey-Lime Salmon Bowls: I came across this recipe in a thread in the Morning Person chat about your go-to dinners, and it is so good! I often make salmon bowls for dinner, so was thrilled to learn a few techniques that bring the simple meal to another level, like 1.) pre-marinating the salmon in lime juice, garlic, and soy sauce, 2.) cooking rice in coconut milk, and 3.) serving it with an avocado salsa. Only change I’d made next time is to bake it instead of pan-searing each piece, out of ease!
📚 Early Work by Andrew Martin: I first saw this recommendation a year ago on the Substack
and remembered it all this time, from the review’s comparison to Salley Rooney and Noah Baumbach (be still my Millennial heart). As promised, the protagonist, Peter, a pretentious literary type, isn’t exactly likable as he strikes up an intimate friendship with a woman, Leslie, while contemplating whether to marry his longterm girlfriend. It redeems itself in his honest observations, about art, love, and being a creative person. (By the way, so many of you recommended books in the comments on Sunday that I’ve added to my to-read list!)P.S. ‘Clean Slate,’ starring Laverne Cox, on Prime also looks great and came out last week!
For as long as I can remember, buying clothes has felt like a fast-track to becoming the person I want to be. In middle school, my best friend’s mom drove us three hours to go shopping in Sacramento, at the mall with the Abercrombie. The tiered, crochet mini-skirt with a white satin bow was the coolest thing I had ever seen and I barely hesitated before shelling out seven-hours worth of baby sitting money to buy it. I felt instantly cooler the moment the clerk handed me my FIERCE-spritzed, eight pack-decorated bag.
My style has evolved in the two decades since, but the sentiment has stubbornly remained: clothes are a ticket to my ideal self. In my pursuit, I’ve spent hundreds (thousands?) of hours searching for items that would complete my closet, splurging on “investment pieces,” only to replace them (or hold onto them guiltily) the next year, when trends changed. I didn’t want to look polished and effortless, so much as I hoped that Jenni Kayne sweater would make me those things. At each turn, my shopping was validated by friends and social media, where overconsumption is a fact of life.
As I began to deepen my relationship with myself, attuning to my body and what actually serves me, it became clear that shopping was not it. A chore jacket is nice to have, but in practice, I was spending hours researching options online, ordering several, trying them on, then heading to several shipping centers to drop-off my returns. Every purchase was a huge investment, that I was paying for dearly not only with money but with time. And, it became increasingly impossible to ignore the ethical implications of regularly buying new clothes.
In October of last year, I hit a wall and quietly promised to myself to stop buying new clothes until the end of 2025, and maybe beyond. It’s been five months, but is already one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time, and feels as life-changing as my decision to stop drinking two years ago. It’s allowed me to really ask myself, “What do I want and need?” and offer it to myself in the moment, instead of muting those emotions with a purchase.
Absolutely no new clothes, although I may very occasionally buy a piece used if I have to replace something essential (I haven’t had to do this yet).
Being hyper-selective about everything I bring into my home. While I’m limiting my “no buy” to clothes (
recently made a similar promise!), I’m being extremely judicious with everything I bring into my house, including home goods and even books.Buying things in person, whenever possible. I stopped buying from Amazon months ago, and it’s helped me realize how many things I was buying that I really didn’t need. Buying things in person adds additional time to think over a purchase, not to mention an opportunity to connect with someone in person!
I’m still in the relatively early days of not shopping (I tried last year, and kept my promise until my book tour), so I reached out to , who’s heading into her second “no buy year.” You may know Jess from her enormously popular blog (think impeccable outfit photos amidst gorgeous New England fall foliage). A few years ago, she experienced massive burnout and had what she called an “identity crisis,” after which she left influencing, moved with her family to Vermont, and pivoted to a life that emphasizes creativity, community, and offline experiences. Her decision to stop buying anything new (including home goods!) was central to this shift, but meant fundamentally changing her business, which had been built largely around affiliate links and lucrative brand deals. These days, she writes one of my favorite Substacks,
. I am incredibly inspired by Jess, and our conversation made me all the more excited about my own decision to stop buying clothes. Below, we talk about:How to begin a “no buy year”
Making the switch from lifestyle influencing to “no buy” (including how much money is lost in the process, and the singular moment that inspired Jess to switch)
How to maintain under-consumption as a practice
What’s changed for Jess in the last year (spoiler: a lot)
What self-care looks like, when you aren’t shopping
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