I Don’t Shop Like An Editor. I Shop Like A Snob.

If everyone has it, I, most certainly, don’t want it.

There’s a certain kind of person who shops like a spreadsheet. Moodboards. Colour palettes. A running list of “elevated basics” sourced from Net-a-Porter and their favourite influencer’s “curated selects.” It's all terribly…democratic.

I’m not that person.

I Shop Like I’m Building A Private Museum

I shop like a snob. A petty, opinionated, detail-obsessed, I-will-literally-Google-the-factory snob. If the brand’s having a moment, I’m over it. If it’s in a haul video, I’ve blocked it. If I can clock it from the other side of the street, it’s already tired.

(That being said, I quite like the balloon pant trend. From seeing it at Alaïa, and at Chloe. However, with the explosion of it on social media and the fast fashion versions on people who wear denim bermuda shorts - I’m getting the ick and now I’m not sure I want to try it. My opinion could change - I might change my mind - but its highly unlikely).

Fashion editors are trained to have “range,” spot the trends, identify “emerging talent,” stay six months ahead of the algorithm. But that doesn’t mean they have taste. Not personal taste, anyway. I, however, shop like I’m curating an archive. For myself. For my future fabulous niece. For no one at all.

I Don’t Want What’s New. I Want What’s Right.

That one Róhe blouson jacket no one clocked except two women at fashion week who gave me the silent nod of approval. That one Bottega dress - yes, that one, with the gold shoulder hardware that Dakota Johnson wore on Jimmy Kimmel Live! Mine’s intact (for now), and still more exclusive than whatever TikTok is pushing this week. The sheer black Alaïa co-ord? It’s never turned up on a trend report (that I’ve seen so far) or on my Instagram feed other than the time I posted it.

I’m not chasing a trend cycle. I’m chasing a vibe. A fabric. A cut. A feeling.
Something that makes me tilt my head, squint, and say: now this is interesting.
If your entire aesthetic can be replicated via one chaotic Zara trip and a social media filter? It’s not interesting. It’s advertising.

I’ve long retired from the performative cartwheel of “fashion girl” consumption.
The drops. The links. The affiliate frenzy. The moment a brand hires 300 influencers in the same week - it’s a HUGE red flag for me. Not because I’m above it. But because I value style more than virality. Let good things breathe!

(Pictured: some things I already own and some on my wish list - but things I like nonetheless - popular or not).

Style, Finally, On My Own Terms

You know what’s wild? When you stop trying to keep up, your style finally catches up to you. You start dressing for yourself - not for applause, not for resale value, not for a front row. That’s when people start asking, “Where’s that from?” and you smile and say, “Oh, it’s this little label I found - not super well known.”
Is it gatekeeping? Maybe a little. But mostly, it’s just protecting the magic.

It's Not About The Price Tag. It's The Taste.

It’s not about shopping expensive. It’s about shopping discerningly. I don’t care how much it cost. I care what it says. And ideally, it says: “I know what I’m doing, I’m not trying too hard, and I definitely don’t want to match you.” Let the others shop the algorithm. I’ll be over here, finding the weird, wonderful, overlooked thing.

Because I don’t shop like an editor. I shop like someone who knows what she likes - and isn’t trying to go viral for it.

Until next time,

Amrita x