In conversation with Lauren Bravo

On clothes, second-hand, the most unlikely place to get a UTI, and writing routines

I love to rant about the toxicity of social media as much as the next person, but to be completely honest, one of the (few) good things I get out of places like Instagram is discovering truly cool and inspiring people. Lauren Bravo is one of them. Owner of a fantastic wardrobe full of vintage and second-hand gems and sporting what some (I) would describe as the perfect curtain fringe, she is an award-winning journalist and the author of some of my favourite reads, like How to Break Up with fast fashion and her debut novel Preloved, an exploration of female friendships, loneliness, and charity shops. And no biggie, but by the time I publish this interview, she is already promoting Probably Nothing, her second fiction novel coming in July. 👏🏻 I’m not jealous, you are jealous!

Today, we sit together (digitally) to chat and share some insights about our experiences with preloved fashion, sustainability, and some challenges along the way… Put the kettle on! 🍵

Cynthia: We have both spent a year without buying clothes (Lauren in 2019 and me in 2016 and six months this 2024) I find it very inspiring to read about other people’s experiences during this experiment. What would you say was the hardest thing for you during that time?

Lauren: I always find the change of the seasons seems to trigger a sartorial meltdown, and that year it was especially hard – feeling the weather shifting and noticing that deeply ingrained Pavlovian response to run out and shop. But I just had to take a deep breath, try to ignore all the trend round-ups, and return to the clothes I already had in my wardrobe. It’s amazing how often you find you already have “this season’s hot new trend” (or close enough) knocking about in there from years back. 

And the easiest?

As soon as I stopped shopping on the high street, I realised just how exhausting I found it. Truly, the idea of walking into Zara quickly became so unappealing – I swear, those places are designed to make you hot and angry and dehydrated and filled with self-loathing. I feel like every trip to Westfield gives me a low-level UTI?! So, while the urge to buy new clothes online was still there, I actually found it fairly easy to avoid setting foot in the physical stores. And I haven’t been back since.