And here’s the thing... I’m actually a consummate planner and strategist (if you know me, you KNOW). But when it comes to outfits, planning with that level of specificity actually stresses me out. It’s also my surefire to end up panic-buying clothes on vacation because suddenly nothing I brought feels right.

So instead of packing outfits, I pack for possibilities.

Which really means I’m packing for versatility, although my definition looks different than most. To me, versatility is not just whether something works for specific weather conditions or occasions, it’s whether it works across moods. And that part is critical. Because this level of versatility gives your style range, room to breathe and pulse. Think chic statement one day, effortless casual the next, a glamorous night out unexpectedly... all while staying true to one’s style DNA.

In a nutshell it’s just a math problem: the right, versatile pieces multiply into endless possibilities. So when a ten-day tour-de-Paris-and-Milan trip comes along filled with shopping, people-watching, and lots of discovery (with my equally fashion-loving, culture-vibing husband by my side)… I need LOTS of possibilities.

So what does that actually look like?

1. Over-pack statement accessories

Think jewelry, brooches, hats, scarves, belts, etc. I usually bring more than I can possibly wear (hold judgment please) because an abundance of choices takes up very little suitcase space, but has an outsized impact on how my clothes feel moment-to-moment.

Also, safety pins. Always always safety pins! I usually travel with 10–15 in different sizes and colors. Sometimes the best outfits come from using pieces in ways they were never intended, and these remarkably underrated little tools help bring those ideas to life.

Fair warning, if you carry-on lots of jewelry like I do when traveling, there is one drawback… Apparently a tangled web of metal objects smooshed inside a small-ish box looks suspiciously like a certain explosive device going through an x-ray machine. I’ve been stopped more times than I can count (especially in foreign countries). Just something to keep in mind!

2. Never underestimate the power of a shoe change

Yes, this means more shoes than most people would ever care to travel with. But I firmly believe in the “sneaker-by-day; glitzy-heel-by-night” philosophy as being the fastest vibe shift there is. A t-shirt and jeans can look like a completely different outfit with the right shoe, you know exactly what I’m talking about! So I’m always balancing walkable shoes (usually flats) for day with at least one heel (or two, or three) for dinner and evenings out.

3. Clothes have to earn their spot

When it comes to clothing, less is actually more. But less does NOT mean basic. Nothing makes me grouchier than being forced to wear boring clothes for a week or two. So every piece I pack has to be a heavy hitter.

For me, everything falls into one of two categories:

The Goldilocks Pieces:
You know the ones. Those magical pieces that somehow work with everything in your wardrobe. Not too basic. Not too much. Special enough on their own, but somehow always juuuust right with every outfit. These end up being my outfit foundations (read “basics”) when I travel.

The Transformers:
The pieces that are more than meets the eye. A button-down shirt that becomes a halter. A dress that doubles as a tunic. A scarf that becomes a top (fyi, I packed five scarves on this trip). These are the pieces that create exponential style possibilities. Combine them with a well-placed safety pin and the looks multiply exponentially.

To be fair, I did one additional thing this for trip I’ve never done. After I’d packed as I normally do, I decided to download the INDYX app. Since the items in my suitcase were some of the most worn items in my closet, I figured this was a time to start cataloging my closet. Plus, I’m a very visual person, so at a minimum I could record my outfits along the way for future reference.

But it also gave me the flexibility to play around with a few outfit “starters” using my own closet as inspiration, not a prescription. I was immediately hooked and have used the app every day since.

Not surprisingly, only one of my outfit “starters” did I wear exactly as-is, but this was precisely the point. The starters were my inspiration, the pieces were versatile, and I given myself enough style flexibility to make adjustments along the way.

Ultimately the goal was never to have my precise outfits planned, but to plan my suitcase to keep pace with life-away-from-home. Which means even on vacation, my clothing needs to help me… feel like myself… absorb the vibe… and get lost in the moment, wherever that might be. Packing for possibilities (and recording my outfits along the way) helps me do just that.

Maybe this isn’t how everyone wants to travel. But for anyone who sees clothing as an important part of experiencing a place (not just dressing for it) try packing less around outfits and more around possibilities. You might be surprised how much more of yourself you bring along.

Christian

It Hit Me Like a Ton of Bricks

I love fashion. Personal style. Creative potential. It’s the thread that’s connected everything in my life — from learning to sew with my mom and falling in love with secondhand before it was cool, to moving from small-town Iowa to New York City, meeting my husband (a creative soul in every sense), and building a career in fashion that continues to evolve today.

Style has always been my language — how I make sense of myself and the world around me. So it’s no surprise I’ve always been that friend — the one people ask for fashion and styling advice, brand recommendations, or help pulling a look together.

But in recent years, I feel more like the person in need of guidance. Getting dressed has started to feel hard — not in the nothing-to-wear way, but in a why-doesn’t-this-feel-right-anymore? way. My closet’s full of pieces I love, but when I put them together, something’s just… off. For someone who’s always had a clear point of view when it comes to style — and whose identity is so intertwined with it — that’s damn unsettling.

So two years ago, I did what any style-obsessed person would do: I created an Instagram account and started posting my outfits. I followed women who inspired me. I joined every style challenge imaginable — closet edits, no-shop months, mindful months, capsule dressing, outfit formulas, all of it. And somewhere in there, something amazing happened: I found a community. Women who get it. Women who love style for the same reasons I do — as a form of expression, connection, and creativity. I feel deeply connected to many of them, even though we’ve never met in person or spoken beyond a string of long DMs. That part has been pure magic — easily the most rewarding thing to come from all of this.

But even after all those helpful exercises (and yes, I’d recommend them to anyone), something still wasn’t clicking. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper I wasn’t seeing yet. I’ve been pondering this for some time — a nagging feeling always in the back of my mind.

And then recently it hit me — like a ton of bricks.

My life lacks focus, so my style does too.

FUCK.

One tiny thought. Somehow both so heavy and so relieving at the exact same time.

The Whiplash Years

I haven’t shared much about my life before Miami. And to understand why my style feels so unmoored, you kind of have to understand the last seven years. Nearly everything that once anchored and defined me flipped upside down — and kept shifting — career, home, lifestyle, even my sense of purpose.

It started when my husband and I moved from New York (where we’d lived for 13 years) to Milwaukee, then Seattle, and finally Miami — all within five years. That was never the plan, but happen it did. Talk about a vibe shift.

In New York, everything felt sharper, faster, more serious — the energy, the people, the clothes. Milwaukee was pleasant and polite, but quietly conservative underneath. We stuck out without even trying. Seattle was a little looser, a little more accepting, but still cautious of “flashy outsiders.” (And yes, the Seattle chill is real.) Then came Miami — bright, relaxed, unhurried, with a feels-good-to-be-alive sensibility. The air is lighter here, the mood easier, the people a little smilier. Even when you’re dressed up, it’s never too serious. We love where we’ve landed, but going from there to here has been full-on sensory whiplash.

Meanwhile, my career was doing its own version of that rollercoaster. I went from leading big teams and multimillion-dollar businesses — long hours, back-to-back meetings, constant travel — to suddenly… not working at all. No title. No structure. No next step. Eventually, I started consulting, almost by accident, and what began as a stopgap quietly became my new path forward. My work now looks nothing like it used to — fewer meetings, more autonomy, more creative control — and honestly, it suits me. But through all of it, my wardrobe was scrambling to keep up, shapeshifting with every version of my life — from corporate office boardrooms to quiet Zoom calls from home.

We also thought we’d be starting a family during those years, but life had other plans. It was heartbreaking at first, but it also gave us space to redefine what our future could look like. We bought a condo here in Miami — our own creative project — and we’ve been pouring ourselves into designing it together. These days, our time (and money) goes toward the things that bring us joy: hunting for vintage furniture, world travel with friends, and inspiring fashion finds chosen with a curator’s eye. It’s a different kind of fulfillment — one rooted in creative expression over convention.

And if that wasn’t enough change already, I went and changed my hair too. After two decades of covering my grays, I decided it was finally time to stop dyeing it. To my surprise (and delight) I’m almost completely white around my face — a sharp contrast to my espresso-brown past. Suddenly, everything shifted: the colors I wear, the makeup that works, the hats and hair accessories that feel right, even the jewelry I like.

Looking back now, it’s clear my wardrobe has spent the last several years in survival mode — reacting to change instead of reflecting intention. Each move, each pivot left its mark, but none of them quite formed a whole picture. And let me be clear — this wasn’t your normal kind of change. This wasn’t a job shift or a new phase of life that quietly reshapes your style in the background. This was everything all at once. The kind of change that hits so fast you stop evolving and start just… staying afloat. When that happens, it’s not that you lose your sense of style — it’s that life pulls so much energy from you, you stop seeing yourself clearly in the mirror.

So if you’ve ever felt that — even for a minute — you’re not alone. Even the most style-savvy among us, the ones who live and breathe this stuff, can wake up one day and realize we’ve fallen out of sync with ourselves. That’s where I’ve been. But after years of treading water, I’m ready to find my anchor again — in style and in life. To take all this reflection and turn it into action. To stop floating and start steering.

Time for a Style Reboot

First… if you’ve read this far, thank you. Truly.

Second… I’m calling this a style reboot. Because it isn’t about dusting off old ideas or rebuilding from the ground up. It’s about hitting reset — not on my identity, but on how it shows up every day. The foundation of my style still holds value, but the system? It’s stuck. My philosophies around clothing — what I stand for, what I feel good in, what truly resonates at my creative core — all of those need to be applied through the lens of my life as it is today.

That means working from home in a subtropical city, with a more relaxed rhythm, new white hair, and a renewed desire to express myself creatively in a way that feels aligned with this version of me.

The good news? I have a plan — or at least a really good framework. A handful of tools and exercises, some practical, some reflective. The funny thing is, much of it isn’t that different from what I do for work: helping brands define their look, feel, and point of view. Only this time, the “brand” I’m reimagining is my own. And instead of quietly doing it behind the scenes, I want to share it here — the real, imperfect process of getting unstuck. And if it helps someone else do the same, even better.

I’ve mapped out five key exercises to start — small but meaningful steps to rebuild from the inside out. Some are about mindset, others about what’s hanging in my closet, but all are meant to bring my inner and outer worlds back in sync. I’ll be sharing my progress here and on Instagram as I work through each one. I’m starting first by…

Identifying my key scenarios

Before I can dress with intention, I need to be honest about how I actually spend my time. What does a normal week really look like? Walking the dog, working from home, client calls, dinner with the gals, and everything in between.

But this isn’t just a functional exercise — it’s about self-awareness and pattern recognition. What’s really happening in those moments when getting dressed feels harder than it should? Is it the styling? The clothes themselves? Am I missing something to complete the outfit? Or is it something deeper — like mood, mindset, or confidence? Those are the roadblocks I want to solve for — the first step in eliminating guesswork and making getting dressed feel instinctive again. At the same time, I also need to…

Create a mood board / reflection board

This one’s part intuition, part investigation. Which outfits or pieces make me feel most like myself — and why? What mood do they carry? Then I’ll look outward: who inspires me lately, and what about their style resonates? Pulling those references together will help me see patterns — the colors, silhouettes, and attitudes that really belong to me — and check that they align with the scenarios I define later.

Then, with functional needs, current roadblocks, and desired vibe fully defined, it’s time to move on to the fun part…

Getting help from (stylish) friends

Sometimes the people who see you the most clearly are the ones already in your corner. So I called my Miami style crew — Rachel of and — and booked a “closet play date.” They’re each creative powerhouse who know my wardrobe almost as well as I do, but they’re also honest enough to challenge me. I’m counting on them to spot blind spots, spark new ideas, and help me see what I might’ve missed on my own. And honestly? It’s just fun to have your friends come over and play dress-up together.

Up to this point, these are all exercises I’ve done before in some way. But this next one is entirely new — and honestly, a little thrilling. Because for the first time, I’m bringing in a professional eye.

Get help from a style professional

I recently met through Rachel, and it was an instant girl-crush situation. Her personal style is that perfect blend of casual-cool and creative restraint — less-is-more with impact. She finds unexpected ways to wear things that feel effortless but intentional. She also is a stylist by trade and helps her clients see their wardrobe with fresh eyes. She’s exactly the kind of perspective I need right now, and we’re meeting soon to dig in together.

And finally, after all that reflection and feedback, it’s time to pull it all together with intention and to…

Rebuild my style toolbox

I’ve always believed clothes are tools and outfits are equations (yes, I’m mixing metaphors — stay with me). This is usually where the generic script kicks in about a versatile blazer, a classic white button-down, etc, etc, etc. Sure, those pieces have a place, but they’re too generic to be useful. Whatever your aesthetic, there are certain “tools” that make it come alive — the ones that define your version of style. Like Amy Smilovic’s oversized jackets or Rachel’s preppy men’s shoes.

Because ultimately, every outfit is just the cumulative result of all the tools you combine — dressier one day, minimalist the next, sexier for date night — but always within your own visual language. My mission is to identify my non-negotiable tools and make sure they’re actually represented in my closet.

Sooooooo… that’s the plan! Not perfection or reinvention — just forward progress. A way to clear the clutter, sharpen the focus, and feel like myself again. I’ll keep sharing the process — the wins, the misses, the aha moments — because that’s the fun part.

Here’s to finding my anchor again, one outfit at a time.

Christian

“Fashion collector” - it’s a formidable title that immediately conjures up larger-than-life names like Daphne Guinness, Alexander Fury, Andre Leon Tally or Vera Wang (reportedly one of the largest collectors of Rick Owens in the world). People in this category are not just patrons of elite fashion brands but powerhouses of style and individuality as well. They have reached icon status with personalties (and wallets) as big as their collectible closets.

So to think about how an average person with meager means or limited access could be a “fashion collector” seems intimidating if not altogether impossible. But in a world where fashion trends come and go at record speed, and our access to it all has created a culture of homogeny instead of distinction, I find myself craving something different, something more. While my love of fashion has never waned, I’m noticing that where I find inspiration seems to have changed. And how those sources help me to express my style differently has changed too.

But back to this idea of collecting.... what does it even mean really to be a collector? And why am I so fixated on this concept? Well if I was first to define it, the act of collecting seems to center around the careful practice of seeking and selecting desired items that hold particular significance for the collector. A practice I can definitely relate to for sure. In fact I have a running list of pieces I’m always on the lookout for, including a pair of boots I recently purchased.

I had been searching for these elusive boots for over 5 years. An over-the-knee black leather pair that would be the perfect balance of strong yet chic, dressy yet casual, unassuming yet striking. Bought new, these type of boots are easily 2k or more, so I had been focusing my search on the secondhand market. And I finally found them, unexpectedly, while looking for an unrelated wedding guest outfit. I was absolutely ecstatic! They were a pair of Ann Demeulemeester boots that had never been worn and were totally within my budget now. I added them to my cart immediately. No hesitation. I think I’ve rarely made a quicker purchase decision.

As soon as the boots arrive I rip open the box and put them on. OOOHHHHH MANNNN! My happy-dance ensues. This was more than just a general feeling of excitement though. It would have been more accurate to compare my feelings of elation with those of finding a missing piece of a puzzle. There was clearly something deeper here, far beyond the normal emotions that come with acquiring a new pair of boots. And this is where the problem-solving, neuroscience-loving nerd in me takes over. So I start researching and this is where things got interesting...

BOOM! That’s big, people.

Not altogether unexpected, but also really exciting to think about how this shift in mentality could positively impact our often over-consumptive buying behavior. We all talk about the notion of buying fewer, buying better. But the reality is, it’s hard to change our long-standing shopping behaviors, even with the best of intentions. So redirect our desire to shop into something potentially more productive is intriguing. And this shift towards collecting (for the right reasons) seems to be connected with a greater sense of personal satisfaction and fulfillment - a positive outcome we can all happily and selfishly get behind. I’ve definitely noticed myself making this shift, and I seem to be drawn to others who are focused on this too.

I’m a particular fan of Jenny Walton. She passionately and frequently talks about her love for all things vintage, archival designer (especially Prada), flea market and thrift. She seamlessly incorporates all of these ideas with modern pieces as well into a style that is truly her own. And the cherry on top is that she is routinely photographed wearing her favorite items on repeat, even items that she’s had for awhile (a sure sign you truly love what you’ve collected).

I also recently started following Angelina Nagarnova of @justwhatyouknow. Her entire IG showcases her journey of collecting and wearing these collectible pieces… archival Margiela, Comme de Garçons, and more. Watching her collect these avant-garde items is both exciting and inspiring for the viewer and the creator! But the outcome of her collecting seems to have one additional benefit... helping her to develop and express her personal style in a way that is more distinctly her own! And then I read this...

At this point my mind is blown. And it got me thinking... We frequently look for outside resources (influencers, stylists, fashion publications, runway shows, designer brands, creative directors, etc.) for inspiration that resonates uniquely and deeply with each of us. And there is definitely value in feeding on the inspiration and creative energy from those sources. But perhaps when it comes to honing one’s personal style and building a wardrobe of truly loved items, well maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong. Instead of looking outwards for inspiration, maybe we should be looking inwards instead. The more we shift our focus to a collecting mentality, the more we reinforce personal ideas that help us express our identity with greater clarity and satisfaction.

If all this wasn’t compelling enough, I’ll leave you with one final thought of my own. These sought-after collectibles seem to have an inherently greater value to the individual beyond any standard measure, and hold a more sustained value for the individual over time as well. And isn’t the true intention of “timeless style” to identify pieces that you love (and thus wear) both now and into the future?!

The shift towards collecting has personally brought me a sense of joy and satisfaction that I rarely find in fashion anymore. My individual collection will likely never compete with the powerhouse names I mentioned above, but I can see how I’ve greatly benefitted from this shift in mentality. And others could as well, regardless of personal budget or lifestyle. But especially for those who deeply value the unique expression of personal style and the role it plays in communicating one’s identity, it seems that a “collector” mentality could and should play a critical role...

…as a source of personal inspiration and intellectual stimulation.

…as a means to building a wardrobe one truly loves and values for years to come.

…as a tool to better develop one’s authentic, individual style.

..and lastly, as a way to find joy and fulfillment in the act of collecting itself.

Christian