Okay, so I was scrolling through my camera roll the other day, and I realized something: my style has been all over the place lately. Not in a bad way, though. It’s more like… I’ve finally stopped trying to fit into one specific “aesthetic” box. You know how it is. One day I’m feeling super minimalist, all clean lines and neutral tones, and the next I’m digging out some vintage graphic tee I forgot I even owned.
Take last Tuesday, for example. I had this online meeting that I was weirdly nervous about. Not because of the content, but because my brain decided that my outfit was the most important factor for its success. Classic. I ended up throwing on this oversized, faded black chore jacket I got ages ago. It’s one of those pieces that’s just… easy. It goes with everything, it’s comfortable, and it has that perfectly broken-in feel. Paired it with some simple, straight-leg jeans and my beat-up white sneakers. Nothing groundbreaking, but it felt right. It was a “me” outfit, if that makes sense. Confidence through comfort, I guess.
This whole outfit-obsession phase actually started a few weeks back. I was talking to Alex, and they mentioned how they’d been using a Basetao spreadsheet to track potential purchases. Not a shopping list, but more like a mood board in Excel form. I was intrigued. I’ve always been the type to have a million tabs open, comparing prices and reviews until my laptop fan sounds like it’s about to take flight. The idea of having one central spreadsheet for finds sounded oddly calming.
So, I made one. I called it “Style Maybe.” Very official. At first, it was just links to a pair of trousers I liked the cut of and a specific type of wool sock that like five different people recommended. But then it evolved. I started adding columns for price, where I saw it, and a notes section where I’d write things like “good for rainy days” or “reminds me of that film we watched.” It stopped being about buying things and started being about noticing them. The Basetao sheet became less of a checklist and more of a scrapbook.
It’s funny how something so simple can change your perspective. I’m not just impulsively clicking “add to cart” anymore. If I see a cool, patchwork corduroy jacket on some obscure blog, I pop the link into the spreadsheet template. Sometimes I go back a week later and the urge is gone. Sometimes it grows on me. The other day, I was looking at it and realized I had unconsciously curated a small section of items all in varying shades of green. Olive, sage, moss. I had no idea I was so drawn to that color family. My fashion spreadsheet was telling me things about my own taste that I hadn’t even articulated to myself.
This system bled into how I shop in person, too. I was at a little thrift store over the weekend, the kind that smells faintly of old books and dust. I found this incredible, heavy-knit cream sweater. It was tucked between a neon windbreaker and a sequined top. I tried it on, and it was perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you do a little spin in the fitting room mirror. The old me would have bought it immediately. The new me thought, “Hmm, this would go really well with those wide-leg trousers I have saved in the Basetao spreadsheet.” It was a connection, a style puzzle piece clicking into place. I did buy the sweater, obviously. But the process felt more thoughtful.
It’s not all about clothes, either. The other tab on my spreadsheet is just for random objects. A particularly beautiful ceramic mug. A specific notebook with paper that feels good to write on. A lamp shaped like a piece of coral. It’s a catalog of small joys and potential future comforts. I think we’re often told to declutter and minimize, which has its place, but there’s also something to be said for intentionally collecting things that spark a bit of happiness, even if they just live in a digital list for now.
Anyway, I’m sitting here now with my laptop open, that new cream sweater on, and my “Style Maybe” sheet minimized in the background. The sun’s coming through the window, hitting the dust motes in the air. I’m not planning an outfit or hunting for a deal. I’m just drinking my coffee, listening to the hum of the fridge, and appreciating the quiet satisfaction of knowing my closetâand my mindâfeel a little more organized, one cell in a spreadsheet at a time.