I need to confess something that might sound ridiculous coming from someone who writes about sustainable fashion: I wear basically the same outfit at least twice a week, and I’m not even sorry about it. Actually, I’m kind of proud of it? Which is weird because for most of my twenties I thought wearing the same thing repeatedly meant I was boring or couldn’t afford new clothes. Turns out, finding one combination that works perfectly and sticking with it is actually the most sustainable thing you can do with your wardrobe.
The outfit that’s become my uniform happened completely by accident. I was running late for a client meeting about three years ago – shocking, I know, since I’m usually so punctual – and I grabbed whatever was clean and closest to my bed. A vintage men’s blazer I’d thrifted the week before, a basic white t-shirt from Target, my trusty secondhand Levi’s 501s, and my Doc Marten loafers because it was drizzling. I felt like I looked like I’d gotten dressed in the dark, which technically I had since my bedroom overhead light had been broken for two months and I’m apparently too lazy to call my landlord.
But here’s the thing – I got more compliments that day than I’d received in the previous month combined. My client, who’s usually all business, started our meeting by asking where I got my blazer. The barista at my regular coffee shop said I looked “effortlessly cool,” which made me laugh because effort was literally the one thing missing from this outfit. By the time I got home, three different people had stopped me on the street to ask about various pieces.
I mean, what? I’d spent years carefully curating outfits, researching ethical brands, agonizing over whether pieces worked together, and this thrown-together combination got more positive feedback than anything I’d ever worn. It was honestly a little insulting to all my previous fashion efforts.
So obviously I had to test it. The next week, I wore the exact same combination again. Same result. More compliments, more questions, more general approval than my usual carefully planned outfits ever received. I started wearing it whenever I was feeling insecure or running late – which, let’s be real, describes most of my life – and it never failed to deliver positive feedback.
After wearing this combination probably a hundred times over the past three years, I’ve figured out why it works so consistently. And more importantly for someone obsessed with sustainable fashion, why having one perfect outfit formula is actually brilliant for both your closet and the planet.
The combination itself is deceptively simple: oversized men’s blazer, white t-shirt, straight-leg jeans, and either loafers or ankle boots. That’s it. But each piece has to be exactly right for the whole thing to work, which is where most people go wrong when they try to copy it.
The blazer is the star – it has to be genuinely vintage or at least vintage-inspired menswear. Mine is a 1980s Armani I found at Crossroads Trading for forty-five dollars, which remains the best money I’ve ever spent on clothing. It’s slightly too big in the shoulders, hits right at my hip bones, and has that quality of good tailoring that somehow still looks expensive even when it’s wrinkled from being thrown over my desk chair all day.
The key is finding one that’s oversized without looking like you’re drowning in fabric. You want “borrowed from a stylish boyfriend” not “child playing dress-up.” I’ve noticed that vintage men’s blazers in size 38 or 40 usually hit the sweet spot for most women, but honestly it’s one of those things you have to try on to know.
The genius of starting with a vintage blazer is that you’re automatically avoiding fast fashion while getting something that’s already proven its staying power. If a blazer has survived thirty or forty years and still looks good, it’s probably going to last another few decades in your closet. Plus, vintage menswear was often made with better construction than most contemporary pieces, even expensive ones.
For the t-shirt, it absolutely has to be white and it has to be perfect. Not expensive – my most complimented white tee cost twelve dollars at Target – but the fit and fabric have to be exactly right. Classic crew neck, not too tight or loose, hitting right at the hip. I’ve tried this combination with fancy organic cotton t-shirts that cost sixty dollars, and they somehow don’t work as well as my basic Target one. Sometimes simple really is better.
The jeans are where people usually mess this up. They have to be straight-leg, preferably vintage or vintage-inspired 501s. No skinny jeans, no wide legs, nothing too trendy. The slight stiffness of real denim creates the perfect contrast with the blazer’s more fluid lines. My pair is actual vintage from the early 90s that I found on eBay after trying on approximately thirty pairs at various thrift stores. Finding vintage jeans that fit is like dating – you have to be patient and you’ll go through a lot of disasters before you find the right one.
If vintage hunting isn’t your thing, Levi’s has brought back some of their original cuts, or you can try Agolde Riley jeans for a similar vibe. The important thing is avoiding anything that screams “2024 trend” because that immediately dates the whole look.
The shoes make or break everything. I rotate between chunky loafers and ankle boots with a small heel, depending on the season and my mood. My Doc Marten Adrian loafers are probably my most worn shoes at this point – they add just the right amount of edge without going full punk. In winter, I switch to simple black ankle boots with maybe a two-inch block heel.
What doesn’t work: sneakers make it too casual, high heels try too hard, and anything extremely trendy ruins the timeless vibe. The footwear should feel substantial but not clunky, classic but not boring.
Here’s why this outfit obsession actually aligns perfectly with sustainable fashion principles, even though it took me a while to realize it. Having one combination that you know works eliminates so much of the guesswork and anxiety that leads to impulse purchases. I rarely buy random pieces anymore because I know exactly what fits into my wardrobe and what doesn’t.
When you find your uniform, you stop buying things you’ll wear once and then forget about. Instead, you invest in really good versions of the pieces that actually work for your life. My blazer cost forty-five dollars three years ago and I’ve worn it at least twice a week since then. That’s probably less than fifty cents per wear at this point, which makes it one of the most cost-effective purchases I’ve ever made.
The other thing about having a go-to outfit is that it takes the decision fatigue out of getting dressed, which means you’re less likely to stand in your closet thinking “I have nothing to wear” and then ordering something online that you don’t actually need. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve avoided buying new clothes simply because I knew I could just wear my reliable combination and feel confident.
I’ve also noticed that when you’re not constantly trying new combinations, you become more attuned to when your existing pieces need to be replaced or repaired. I had my jeans tailored twice to get the fit exactly right, and I’ve had the blazer dry-cleaned a few times to keep it looking sharp. Taking care of pieces you wear regularly makes so much more sense than buying new things and then ignoring them.
The versatility is incredible too. With tiny adjustments, this combination works for basically any situation short of a wedding or black-tie event. For client meetings, I tuck in the t-shirt and make sure the blazer is properly buttoned. For casual weekends, I leave everything untucked and roll up the blazer sleeves. For dinner out, I might swap the white tee for a black one or add a simple necklace, but the foundation stays the same.
I’ve worn versions of this outfit to job interviews, dates, family dinners, friend’s birthday parties, and that one time I accidentally ended up at a gallery opening in SoHo. It’s never felt wrong for the occasion, which is honestly kind of amazing. Most outfits have a pretty narrow range of appropriateness, but this combination somehow works across contexts.
What I love most is how it communicates something specific about personal style without trying too hard. It suggests you understand classic elements but interpret them on your own terms. In a world where fashion moves so fast and there’s constant pressure to keep up with trends, wearing something timeless feels almost rebellious.
I think the reason people respond so positively to this combination is that it hits that sweet spot between familiar and surprising. Everyone recognizes the individual elements, but putting them together in exactly this way creates something that feels fresh without being trendy. It’s like speaking a language everyone understands but with a slight accent that makes people pay attention.
The confidence factor is huge too. When I wear this outfit, I never second-guess whether it looks good, which probably affects how I carry myself. There’s something to be said for having that one combination that you know works, that makes you feel like yourself but maybe slightly cooler.
Last month I was rushing to meet friends for dinner – I know, I really need to work on my time management – and threw on my usual combination. While I was waiting for the bus, a woman approached me to ask where I got my blazer. When I told her it was vintage, she looked genuinely disappointed.
“I’ve been searching for the perfect oversized blazer forever,” she said. “It seems like every stylish woman has one, and I can never find the right fit.”
I ended up writing down the names of my favorite vintage shops and a few eBay sellers I’ve had good luck with. As she walked away, I realized I was potentially creating competition for myself in the vintage blazer market, but honestly? I’m okay with that.
The world needs more people who find their perfect combination and stick with it, instead of constantly chasing new trends and accumulating clothes they don’t really love. If more of us figured out our personal uniforms and invested in really good versions of those pieces, we’d probably buy way less stuff overall and feel more confident in what we do own.
So if you see someone in an oversized blazer, white t-shirt, and vintage jeans getting complimented by strangers, there’s a good chance they’ve figured out the same thing I have. Sometimes the best fashion secret is finding what works and then just… wearing it. Revolutionary concept, I know.
Riley’s an environmental consultant in Seattle with strong opinions on greenwashing and fast fashion. She writes about sustainability without the guilt trip—realistic tips, honest brand talk, and a reminder that progress beats perfection.



