Wardrobe multiples: repetition dressed up as choice?
Why I kept buying the same thing—and what I’ve learned. Multiples aren't expanding my options; they're crowding my wardrobe and crowding out my creativity.
I’ve been thinking about multiples a lot lately.
Over the weekend I rearranged a few bits in my wardrobe in anticipation of Australian spring—and it stirred up some surprisingly strong feelings.
Maybe it was the timing. New York Fashion Week’s a seasonal reminder that there’s always more…more inspo, more things to want.
In any case, what became glaringly clear this weekend is that I’m guilty of buying multiples. And I say guilty because I’ve long suspected it wasn’t serving me. Yet here I am.
Now with multiples, I’m not talking the usual suspects like the tee in black and white, et al. I talking about multiples of non-basic pieces. Like two pairs of the same shoes, different colours. Two pairs of the same trousers, different colours.
At some point I’d convinced myself these multiples were smart, even risk-free buys. But lately, I’m not so sure.
Tibi, in particular, seems to be my Achilles’ heel when it comes to multiples. And on the aftermath of their 2026 NYFW show*, it feels like the perfect time to unpack my habit.
So here I take four Tibi pieces, look at why I bought them (at least twice), what happened after, and what I’ve learned. Writing it down has made the patterns impossible to ignore—and pointed me toward a more intentional way forward. A little vulnerable to say, and perhaps familiar to some: but for these pieces, I should’ve stopped at one.
* Loved Tibi’s white jacket + crinkle grey-blue slip skirt, white pleat skirt (dress?), and the chartreuse dress & skirt. Still digesting their prices—eek!
Tibi Asymmetrical Balloon Skirt
I think my first notable foray into buying non-basic multiples was the Tibi balloon skirt. The navy skirt quickly became a workhorse: it was easy, robust, washed well, and carried me through PDW (play, dinner, work), just as Amy promised in the early days of the pandemic. Over the years, I wore it heaps. It took me from summer beach days to winter work conferences. It was easy and reliable.
Skip forward a year or two, and understandably (for some, perhaps?!), I toyed with buying another colour. The white? It felt like a safe bet: another neutral, but different enough.
Secondhand options were hard to come by, sometimes overpriced or yellowed with age. I held off. Then Tibi released the skirt in khaki and I was smitten and eventually caved and ordered it. I loved the colour even more irl, but after much hesitation I returned it. I knew deep down I didn’t need two. And that felt good.
Then khaki went on sale, and with a temporary extra discount due to a Shopbop glitch, it was suddenly available at a relative steal. Without time to pause, I snapped it up on final sale. I felt like I got a good deal.
Months passed, and I was still craving the white. I know, it’s laughable. So when one popped up for resale in good condition and at a fair price, I caved for a second time.
The reality, several years on? The white gets lots of wear, albeit mostly in summer, and it’s showing its age. I still love and wear the navy, but far less now that the white’s in rotation. The khaki is barely worn, even though both colour and cut are divine.
Hindsight’s 20:20: I shouldn’t have bought the khaki skirt and I probably should’ve stopped at one. Instead of variety, I ended up with three versions of the same. It’s so predictable, really.
This is the sad afterlife of multiples.
Everything gets worn less, even your most-loved.
Tibi Garment Dyed Silky Sid Pant
Ok, onto some more multiple madness: Tibi’s silky cotton pants, in their signature Sid silhouette.
When these were released a couple of years back, I was already a big Tibi Sid jean fan and these caught my eye. But I was never going to buy full price. I promptly forgot about them.
Eventually, the khaki (Acorn) was heavily discounted in that same Shopbop glitch sale frenzy, and they too felt like another pretty safe bet, at a relative steal. I don’t own many light coloured pants, and none in classic ‘khaki’ shades—these were filling a gap (a phantom gap, perhaps?). And they didn’t disappoint: they’re wonderfully light, easy, and get worn heaps in the shoulder seasons.
Later that year, the same pants in navy got super discounted at a Euro Tibi stockist, and I bought them late one night after a hectic day at work. There was a quick moment of quasi-rationalisation: these would be spring/summer-friendly, unlike my Indigo Sid jeans—thye’d be roll-up-able, breathable, oh so versatile.
By the time they arrived from Europe, I’d sobered up to my late night antics.
The blue colour is a tradies/carpenters’ blue, which I don’t particularly love; I have other deep navy trousers that I prefer. And I don’t find this shade of blue versatile; the colour just leans casual for me, so I’ve never worn these to work or felt inspired to dress them up.
I did notice Tibi’s 2026 campaign showing a near-identical pair in blue faux-suede. Maybe I’m about to get re-inspired? On the positive, the blue fit a size bigger than the khaki, because **tolerances?**—so these turned out to be looser, and comfier than the Acorn colouway.*
And in practice? Predictably, I keep reaching for khaki.
Should I have bought the blue pair? No.
*If the Acorn colour weren’t final sale, I’d have returned and sized up.
Malcolm Flats
So we’re on a roll with wayward multiples.
Next up: the Malcolm flats in a satin finish (thankfully more durable than it sounds!). They came in black, brown and red.
The brown had my heart from the get-go. But for my life (mostly casual) and budget (finite), I was waiting for resale.
However, in the months after these were released, I never saw the brown on resale. I already had other brown flats, so I convinced myself the black was actually a logical choice. A black pair came up on resale at a good price, and they’ve been great—perfect for work, plenty of wear, no regrets.
But as I said, the brown had my heart. Eventually a brand new pair came up on resale. They’re a size up, and fit better.
And in practice?
I still love the idea of the brown Malcolms, but the black ones actually get worn more. When a black flat is needed, it’s often the black Malcolms because I don’t have many black flats. If I’m feeling a brown flat, the brown Malcolm’s up against other options.
I’m not sure what the smater decision would have been here—except I do know this: adding the brown hasn’t resulted in twice anything to my wardrobe.
Stella Crispy Nylon Pleated Cargo Pants
So multiples are an issue for me. These nylon Stella pants are a final example, not that anyone would need any convincing at this point.
I bought the black nylon Stella pants several years ago, and they’ve served me well—they shine in the shoulder seasons, as I find they’re too cold for winter and too hot for peak summer. Like the other pieces, these have been reliable, easy. Cost per wear is low at this point.
When the golden colourway (Tibi’s Desert Sand) pair went on sale, I sized up and grabbed them. Once I had them in my hands, I loved them. The golden tone reads like a neutral but feels fresher, the fit is better than my black ones, and the nylon texture is more dramatic (glowy!) in this lighter shade.
Track forward another year or so, and the grey were in one of Tibi’s bi-annual sales. I was buying another piece and convinced myself they’d be worth purchasing too, make flat-rate shipping worth it. The logic, eek! In person, the grey is beautiful—grey with a warm (red?) undertone that plays well with browns and reds.
But in terms of actual wear?
I quickly preferenced the gold (Desert Sand) over the black, so they’re worn less than before (naturally). And the grey? I’ve hardly worn.
Looking back, the third pair was way overkill. One pair really would have been enough here.
But if that’s sounding like regret…I would never have predicted that Desert Sand would be the real sleeper hit here—for fit, for comfort, for more creative outfits, especially over supposedly failsafe black.
Same, same… but not better
We buy multiples for all sorts of reasons.
For those who live by a strict style uniform (à la Steve Jobs), multiples aren’t optional. Either you develop a deep fondness for laundry or you stock up on duplicates and backups.
For those who’ve developed a style uniform of sorts (ie. you rotate a few signature looks), multiples in different colours or fabrics may be smart. Certainly, it’d streamline our decision-making when buying and when getting dressed, it allows us to double down on failsafes, and it means we can get on with life. That’s efficiency, not excess.
Even without a uniform, multiples can make sense for true basics. For me, tanks, tees, and cashmere crewnecks are workhorses. I tend to buy them on repeat. They’re worn until they’re unwearable, then they get replaced. No regrets here, for now.*
But for those who enjoy fashion, multiples beyond those rudimentary basics can be hard to navigate.
For me, multiples promise failsafe options, but deliver too much sameness in practice.
That’s the rub with multiples: they feel like insurance at the point of purchase, but sometimes they’re just repetition dressed up as choice.
Sorting through my wardrobe this weekend, it was patently clear that multiples were eating up space (after gobbling up my budget).
When I’m shopping and carving up my budget, all this multiples madness means I’m trying less that’s genuinely new. When I’m getting dressed, this multiples madness provides iterations of a silhouette, not true alternatives.
So with that, I had to concede this weekend that my multiples are not just added clutter, but also likely dulling my creativity.
My personal line-up suggests there’s always a natural favorite among the multiples—the one we want to reach for, the one we actually reach for: because it inspires us or because it best fills a wardrobe gap, or because it’s most versatile. Our favourite’s the first pick for our travel capsule.
And the other multiples? They trail behind in varying states of love and neglect.
Until this weekend, I mostly thought of multiples as nice-to-haves—certainly, I recognised them as unnecessary. But I’m starting to see they’re worse than unnecessary. They’re actually a little stifling, for me.
Because I want a manageable wardrobe, every duplicate comes at a cost. Doubling down hasn’t just diluted the quality of my wardrobe, it’s actually undermining it.
As I know, from writing all this up, multiples don’t multiply the joy of the original. What they multiply are the missed opportunities: to expand functionally, to experiment creatively.
*No doubt I could push my wardrobe further here—but for now, this works me.
Planning for fewer multiples
Writing this has been surprisingly eye-opening. It feels vulnerable.
We can be aware of our tendencies, but seeing them on paper crystallises how I kept tripping over the same issues: discounts, indecision on colour, and multiples that appeal as safe-bet purchases, but often deliver redundancy.
There’s no single right way to build a wardrobe—only what actually works for us each individually. But here’s what I’m going to be doubling down on over the next 12 months to stop the multiples’ madness.
Maybe someone else might find it useful too.
1. Sales & Discounts
Almost every non-basic multiple I’ve bought came via a discount. For me, it’s the combination of sure bet + discount that becomes tempting—and that hasn’t served me well.
I’m not advocating never shopping sales; waiting, reselling, and hunting discounts makes sense for wallet and planet. But it only works the first time we buy an item. Once multiples enter the mix, discounts stop being a smart strategy. For me at least, they just fuel repetition.
Going forward, I need a firm no-multiples policy for anything that isn’t a basic wardrobe staple. Discounts are secondary to intentionality: I’ll only buy when it fills a gap or aligns with a wishlist item, not because it feels like a good deal.
2. Choosing Wisely
I like to think I shop fairly intentionally, but colour indecision can be a minefield. Safe neutrals are tempting, but I’ve got so much navy. A wardrobe full of the same palette is just as limiting.
Asta from Fit Happens shared a smart strategy for choosing which colour to buy:
Feel the love—buy what excites you.
Vibe check each colour—buy the vibe you’re after.
Same vibe (ring), function check—if they offer the same vibe (or Tibi ring) consider functionality.
Max two duplicates—never do multiples in the same ring.
Looking back, I broke a fair few of these rules with the balloon skirt & Stella pants (2+ multiples), and the Silky Sid pants & Malcolms (same rings, same function).
I never felt like I settled for the ‘wrong’ colour off the bat, albeit perhaps the ‘feel the love’ is harder to trust if you’re buying online (which I mostly am with Tibi) and don’t ever get the true in-the-hand gut check. This is true of the Desert Sand colour Stella pants, which never really caught my eye on screen, but which I love in person, and favour in practice.
Like lots of other designers, Tibi releases popular pieces in new colours and textures in later seasons—balloon skirt in Ochre and Pink, love! New shades appear, items eventually show up on resale, and by the time they do, I know I’ll have had space to consider and sometimes have already moved on. Patience here helps prevent impulsive multiples and keeps colour choices intentional.
3. Make space before filling
Intentional wardrobe building isn’t just about adding—it’s about removing.
Bringing in duplicates with the intention of selling the old one can work. But better yet is selling the first piece before buying the second. Nothing tests our committment more to the new piece than having to first part with a piece we already own and love.
Going forward, I want to sell or rehome the first piece, before the new piece arrives. This is my intentionality check. This also supports a mostly ‘no multiples’ approach…
Multiples’ Strategy
Multiples can feel like insurance, but they often cost more than money: they take up space, limit creativity, and slow decision-making.
There’s that saying: discipline is remembering what you want. My plan is simple:
Avoid multiples of non-basics, with very few exceptions!
Let sales guide first-time buys, not repeats.
Choose colour and function intentionally.
Make space before bringing anything new in.
This is my strategy for dealing with multiples moving forward—more thoughtful, less reactive, and hopefully less repetition.
What’s your strategy for multiples and how’s it working out?
Hello—I’m pretty new around here. If you like what you see, please subscribe and restack to support my little design studio. I’d be so thrilled. Thank you :) — architect Meg.
I feel like you wrote this FOR and TO me. This was so good. I am a multiple HOARDER— & tend to hyperfixate on my loves.
Thank you for this!!!! I love reading your work, Meg!!
Thank you for this vulnerable wisdom! 😘