I’m a freak for good clothes. The euphoria when a pant breaks just so, or you half button a shirt and the drape is *chef’s kiss*. I think I got it from my parents, who were both overtly aware of the importance and joy that “dressing well” could impart. I remember my dad’s walk-in, lined with rows of bespoke suiting, suede jackets as soft as butter and drawers upon drawers of ties in every colour imaginable. Similarly, my mum has the most comprehensive wardrobe I’ve ever seen, straddling the line between enthusiasm and hoarding, complete with an extensive storage system for jewellery. 

But while I inherited their love for beautiful things, it’s never been about volume for me. I tend to freak out when confronted with too many options and let’s be real, the things I fall for tend to be $$$. These days, the edit is tight. It never feels limiting because everything in there feels like me. 

Being someone who has spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about clothes, I figured my eventual life partner would be a bit perplexed by it. Maybe it’d be a quirk that they’d find amusing? But I never seriously thought that I’d find a man who’d get excited about Sunday mornings spent in bed trawling Vestiaire. 

Now, I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Being with someone who “gets it” is validating on that deep you-see-me-as-my-truest-self-and-don’t-judge-me level. We get to share this passion for the sartorial, and as the years have passed, it’s impossible not to notice the stylistic morphing that’s taken place.

We share a good portion of our wardrobe. We’ll split the investment into items we know we’ll both wear (see, thrifty!) and if we can’t share a size, we’ll often purchase the same item in our respective sizes. Notable mentions to The Row soft loafers and these Amomento drawstring pants. It’s not that we’re aiming to look like Korean lovebirds (although I have to admit I find this adorable) it’s just that we’ve inevitably begun to influence each other. And actually, I think that’s a positive thing.

I learn so much from my husband. We’re both in a constant state of osmosis, picking up thoughts and ideas rattling around in the other’s head. Why shouldn’t that extend to styling? Obviously, it’s important for both parties in a long-term relationship to have their own hobbies, interests and outlets. I’m not implying that we have or want to “become one” because that’s gross and unhealthy. It’s just that having a shared interest is another way to connect. A reminder that it’s ok to like what you like and spend your life cultivating and collecting if that’s what turns you on.

Mark my words, there’s no greater love language than someone sending you a link to a vintage Armani fringed scarf that they scoured the internet for on your behalf. Someone who is also workshopping their outfits in a moodboard. Someone happy to add a line item to your yearly budget for “wardrobe acquisition” – shout out to our financial advisor who encouraged this kind of conscious planning. I’d go so far as to say that feeling safe enough to share my intense fixation with another human being has grounded my nervous system. I want him to feel completely supported and encouraged, and so it feels irrational to shame myself for the same urges. 

And if you happen to see us out and about wearing outfits that echo each other, it’s not intentional but it also isn’t something I’m uncomfortable about. I’m just an unwitting Aki and Kochi stan with a man by my side whose style is so good, I can’t help but take note. 

Image credits:

I - Aki and Koichi for Sezane

II - LEJ London 

III - P Johnson sweats that are household favourites at Maison Furrer