The Cost of Getting Dressed Up
Last week, I did something dangerous. I calculated how much it costs me to leave the house. Not gas money or coffee - just the cost of being presentable. The number made me want to become a hermit.
The Mathematics of Appearance
Let's break down my average "going out" outfit:
- Shirt: $30
- Jeans: $50
- Belt: $40
- Socks: $3
- Shoes: $100
- Handkerchief: $5
- Apple Watch: $500
- Perfume: $50 (let's say 100 sprays per bottle, so $0.50 per use)
- Deodorant: $5 (maybe 50 uses, so $0.10)
Total investment: $783. Sounds reasonable for a wardrobe, right?
Wrong. That's not how cost works.
The Per-Wear Reality
Here's where it gets interesting. That $30 shirt? If I wear it 20 times before it dies, that's $1.50 per wear. The jeans might last 100 wears - $0.50 each time. Shoes maybe 200 wears - $0.50. Add laundry costs (detergent, water, electricity, time) - another $0.50 per outfit.
So every time I step out looking "decent," I'm burning through:
- Shirt: $1.50
- Jeans: $0.50
- Belt: $0.20 (assuming 200 wears)
- Socks: $0.15
- Shoes: $0.50
- Handkerchief: $0.05 (assuming 100 uses)
- Apple Watch: $0.50 (assuming 1000 days of wear)
- Perfume: $0.50
- Deodorant: $0.10
- Laundry: $0.50
Total: $5.00 per outing
Just to not look like I crawled out of a cave. And that's a conservative estimate with moderately priced clothes.
The Existential Crisis
This sent me down a rabbit hole. If existing in public costs $5.00, what about everything else?
That MacBook Pro I'm typing on? $3000, maybe 1500 days of use if I'm lucky. $2 per day just to have a computer. My car? Between purchase, insurance, maintenance, and gas - probably $20 per day whether I drive it or not. My home? Don't even get me started.
Suddenly, I understood Tyler Durden's whole thing about possessions owning you. Except he was worried about the spiritual cost. I'm here calculating the literal cost.
The Per-Use Revolution
This thinking changes everything. That $300 jacket suddenly looks brilliant if you wear it 300 times ($1 per wear). That $5 coffee looks insane when a $500 espresso machine pays for itself in 100 cups.
But here's where it gets dark: we buy things based on imagined use, not actual use. That gym membership ($2 per day whether you go or not). That streaming service you check once a month ($0.50 per episode at that rate). That musical instrument gathering dust (infinite cost per note not played).
The Fashion Paradox
The real kicker with clothes is social pressure. We can't wear the same outfit too often without judgment, so we need variety. But variety means each item gets worn less, driving up the per-wear cost. It's a beautiful trap.
The people who've figured this out? They wear the same thing every day. Jobs with his turtlenecks. Zuckerberg with his gray shirts. They're not fashion-impaired; they're economically optimized.
Redefining Value
What if we started thinking about every purchase in per-use terms?
- That $1000 phone you'll use 1000 times? $1 per day seems reasonable.
- That $30 book you'll read once? Expensive entertainment (of course I can't put a price on knowledge).
- That $100 dinner out? If the memory lasts a lifetime, maybe it's a bargain.
The framework flips everything. Expensive things used daily become cheap. Cheap things used rarely become expensive. Quality over quantity suddenly makes mathematical sense.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Here's what this really reveals: we're all walking around in rental clothes, driving rental cars, living in rental homes - we just paid upfront and forgot about the ongoing cost.
Every morning, you wake up and decide to spend money you've already spent. Every outfit is a micro-transaction. Every drive is a withdrawal. Every day at home is rent paid to your past self.
The Solution?
I'm not suggesting we all go full minimalist (though the math supports it). But maybe we should:
- Calculate per-use cost before buying anything
- Invest in quality items we'll actually use
- Stop buying variety for variety's sake
- Accept that looking good has a price tag
- Make peace with wearing the same things more often
Or we could all just work from home in our underwear. At $0 per wear (not literally), it's economically optimal.
But then again, therapy for the resulting social isolation probably costs more than clothes. Everything has a price, especially trying to avoid prices.
Next time someone compliments your outfit, maybe thank them for acknowledging your $5.00 investment. Or don't. That conversation might not be worth the social cost.
The things you own end up owning you. Turns out, they also charge rent.