Latest / Style Edit: Fashion, beauty & personal style / Why You Need to Bore Yourself Today: The Art of Doing Nothing | Style Edit
Transcript
- I watched a woman stare at a cracked screen for forty-five minutes, not scrolling, just breathing. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. Let’s be real for a second. How many times today did you reach into your pocket or purse when you didn’t actually feel the phone buzz? We have all developed this phantom limb syndrome where our devices are attached to our nervous systems. I used to think it was a glitch in my brain. Now I know it’s a habit we’ve cultivated with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker. Every time we feel a twinge of boredom, anxiety, or even just a moment of quiet transition, we fill it. Instantly. With noise. With content. With someone else’s life. But here is the thing that keeps me up at night, and honestly, it’s not about fashion or fabric choices. It’s about what happens to our souls when we refuse to sit still. When we treat every empty second as an emergency that must be resolved by digital intervention. I want to talk about that today. Not because I’m preaching asceticism or telling you to throw your iPhone into the East River—though, don’t get me wrong, sometimes I consider it—but because I think we are starving ourselves of something essential. Something tactile. Something quiet. And if you’re listening to this while driving or folding laundry or waiting for your coffee, take a breath. Just one. Don’t check anything. Don’t look at the time. Let’s try this together. When I first started curating vintage pieces, I spent hours in dusty attics and basement shops looking for that perfect 1970s silk blouse. There would be these moments, standing alone in a dimly lit room, surrounded by racks of other people’s memories, where nothing happened. No one walked in. No price tag fell off a hanger. Just silence. My first instinct was always to pull out my phone and record a video, to document the atmosphere, to prove I was there. To make the moment useful. But over time, I learned that the best finds often come after you’ve stopped looking for them. You have to stand in that stillness long enough for your eyes to adjust. Long enough for your mind to stop racing toward the next transaction. That is what boredom feels like to us right now. It feels like failure. Like wasted time. Like a blank page that scares us because we think we’re supposed to write on it immediately. But what if the blank page isn’t meant for writing? What if it’s meant for resting? What if staring at the wall is actually a form of creative maintenance? We live in a culture that worships productivity like it’s a moral virtue. If you aren’t optimizing, learning, or earning, you’re falling behind. But I am gently challenging that narrative today. I’m raising an eyebrow at the idea that your worth is tied to your output. Because style, real personal style, comes from knowing yourself. And you can’t know yourself if you’re constantly distracted by everyone else. You need space to hear your own thoughts. Even if those thoughts are boring. Especially if those thoughts are boring. I want you to think about your wardrobe for a moment. Really look at it. Think about the textures you love. The weight of a heavy wool coat in winter. The slip of cool linen against your skin in summer. The roughness of raw denim that hasn’t been washed yet. These things require presence. You can’t truly appreciate the grain of leather or the drape of cashmere if you’re looking at your screen. You have to touch it. You have to hold it. You have to let your fingers read the story of the garment. This is why I hate fast fashion so much, not just because of the environmental cost, but because it feels so hollow. It’s designed to be consumed quickly and discarded quickly. It doesn’t ask you to slow down. It doesn’t invite you to linger. But when you wear something special, something chosen with care, it demands your attention. It asks you to stand up straight. To notice how the light hits the buttons. To feel confident in the cut. This mindfulness extends beyond clothing. It extends to how we move through our days. When we are bored, we are usually trying to escape the present moment. But the present moment is the only place where life actually happens. It’s where you decide what to wear. It’s where you notice the way your friend smiles when she laughs. It’s where you realize you’re tired and need to rest, not scroll. So, I propose a small experiment. Next time you feel that itch to pick up your device, put it face down. Literally flip it over. Cover the screen. Look around you. What do you see? What do you feel? Is there a texture you can engage with? A window you can watch? A thought you can follow without judgment? This isn’t about being anti-technology. It’s about being pro-presence. It’s about reclaiming your attention span, which is currently being sold to the highest bidder. Does it feel like you? Does it feel exhausting to be constantly 'on'? To be available, connected, and curated? I remember working at the magazine, back when my hair was blonder and my patience was thinner. We had meetings where we’d stare at mood boards for hours, trying to find the right shade of blue for a cover shoot. In the beginning, we filled every minute with chatter, with jokes, with panic. But eventually, we learned to sit in the discomfort. We learned that the answer often came when we stopped forcing it. The best ideas aren’t generated in a frenzy; they emerge in the quiet aftermath of that frenzy. They come when you’re washing dishes, or walking the dog, or lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. Those are the moments of magic. And they are impossible to schedule. You cannot optimize serendipity. You cannot hustle for inspiration. You have to wait for it. You have to give it room to breathe. This is what boredom provides. It creates the vacuum that draws in creativity. It clears the cache of your mind so new information can enter. Without boredom, we are just data processors. We consume, we react, we repeat. But with boredom, we become creators. We become observers. We become human beings who are allowed to just be, without needing to prove anything to anyone. And let’s be honest, proving anything is a full-time job that pays no dividends. Why work two jobs when you can just rest? So, here is your challenge. Not a big one. Not a thirty-day detox. Just one moment. One single moment of intentional boredom. Tomorrow, when you are waiting in line for your latte, do not pull out your phone. Do not check your email. Do not start a podcast. Stand there. Feel your feet on the ground. Notice the steam rising from the cup. Listen to the hum of the refrigerator. Let your mind wander wherever it wants. If it wanders to your inbox, let it. Then let it go. If it wanders to that outfit you saw online, let it drift away. Just be in the line. Be in the wait. Be in the pause. I promise you, it will feel strange at first. Your skin might crawl. You might feel a phantom vibration again. You might think you’re missing something urgent. But stay with it. Stay with the discomfort. Because underneath that discomfort is a deep, resonant calm that you haven’t felt in years. It’s the calm of knowing you are enough, exactly as you are, in this exact second, without any additional context or validation. Style is just confidence wearing clothes. And confidence is built in the quiet moments when you choose yourself over the noise. When you trust that you can handle the silence. When you realize that you are not your notifications. You are the person holding the phone, deciding whether or not to look at it. That power belongs to you. Reclaim it. Gently. Slowly. With intention. There is a slow aesthetic in life, just as there is in fashion. It’s the art of doing things properly. Of taking the time to fold the shirt correctly. Of buttoning the top button only when it fits. Of sitting with a friend and letting the conversation flow without checking the clock. This slowness is not laziness. It is luxury. It is a rebellion against a world that demands speed. When we embrace boredom, we are embracing the slow aesthetic. We are saying that our time is valuable. That our attention is precious. That we refuse to give it away cheaply. And I love that for us. I love that we are choosing depth over breadth. Quality over quantity. Presence over performance. This is the essence of true style. It’s not about what you wear; it’s about how you carry yourself through the world. It’s about moving with purpose, even when that purpose is simply to breathe. To exist. To be bored. So, let yourself be bored. Let yourself be still. Let yourself be unoptimized. You might just find that in that emptiness, you finally find yourself. And that is the most beautiful accessory you could ever wear. Stay soft, stay stylish, and stay wonderfully, beautifully bored. I’ll see you in the next edit.