I Spent a Week Wearing Only Boden and Accidentally Discovered My Inner Suburban Mom

Okay, so this is going to sound completely ridiculous, but I spent last week wearing nothing but Boden clothes and honestly? It was kind of a revelation. Not in like a life-changing way or anything, but definitely in a “huh, maybe I’ve been overthinking this whole fashion thing” way.

It started because I was procrastinating on a logo design project at like 11 PM, scrolling through my phone instead of working like a responsible adult, when I saw this Boden email about a sale. Fifty percent off, free shipping, the whole deal. Now, I have to admit something embarrassing – I’ve been secretly buying Boden pieces for the past couple years. I know, I know. The same brand my mom has been obsessed with since I was in middle school, when their catalogs would show up at our house and she’d circle stuff with a red pen like she was grading papers.

Back then I thought Boden was literally the most uncool thing on earth. All those happy families in cable knit sweaters standing on beaches looking like they’d never experienced a single moment of anxiety in their entire lives. I was way too busy being angsty and wearing thrifted band tees that were three sizes too big to appreciate anything that… cheerful.

But then somewhere around my late twenties I found myself actually stopping to look at a Boden cardigan in Nordstrom. The fabric was really soft and it was this perfect dusty blue color that would go with everything I owned. I didn’t buy it that day because spending $80 on a cardigan felt insane when I was barely making rent, but I thought about it for like two weeks straight.

Fast forward to now and I own… well, more Boden than I’d probably admit to my 22-year-old self. But it’s always been mixed in with everything else – my Uniqlo basics, vintage Levi’s, random Target finds. I never thought of myself as a “Boden person” because honestly, what even is that?

So anyway, I’m sitting there at almost midnight with this sale email and this completely random thought pops into my head. What if I wore only Boden for an entire week? Like, what would actually happen? Would I suddenly start saying things like “lovely weather we’re having” and develop opinions about garden design? Would people at work notice I looked different or would it just blend in with my normal style?

Before I could talk myself out of it – and probably because I’d had two glasses of wine with dinner – I placed this order for five new pieces. The total made me cringe a little even with the discount, but I convinced myself it was research. Professional development. Understanding one of the biggest British fashion brands from the inside, you know?

My rules were pretty simple. Seven days of exclusively Boden clothing. Shoes and bags could be whatever because I’m not made of money and also Boden shoes have always looked a bit… sensible for my taste. But every actual clothing item had to be from them.

Monday morning I laid out my first outfit – this burgundy corduroy jumper dress over a striped long-sleeve tee, with black tights and my usual ankle boots. Looking in my bathroom mirror, I felt… fine? Good, actually. The dress fit really well and the color was gorgeous against the gray Portland morning. Maybe this wouldn’t be as weird as I thought.

The real test was our Monday morning team meeting. I walked into the conference room feeling slightly self-conscious, like everyone would immediately clock that I was dressed differently. Was I giving off major suburban mom vibes? Would someone make a joke about whether I was heading to Whole Foods to buy organic kale after work?

But nobody said anything. We went through the usual Monday chaos of deadlines and client updates and the weird passive-aggressive email someone had sent over the weekend. It wasn’t until we were packing up that my coworker Emma paused by my chair.

“New dress? That color looks amazing on you.”

Not “very mom-core” or “channeling your inner suburbanite.” Just a normal compliment. Interesting.

By Wednesday I’d worn wide-leg pants with a silk blouse, a knit midi dress, and was currently sporting this pleated skirt with a merino sweater. All Boden, obviously. And honestly? I was kind of loving it. The consistency made getting dressed so much easier – I knew everything would work together because it was all from the same brand. Plus I’d gotten more compliments than usual.

“You’ve been looking really put-together lately,” my desk neighbor Jake mentioned during our afternoon coffee run. “What’s different?”

“Just trying some new stuff,” I said vaguely, feeling like I was conducting some kind of undercover fashion experiment.

Thursday was the real challenge though. There was this networking event for local creatives at one of those trendy Pearl District spots with exposed brick and craft cocktails that cost $15. The crowd would be full of other designers and creative types who actually pay attention to what people wear, not like my generally oblivious coworkers.

I went with my most expensive purchase from the order – this dark green floral silk dress that cost more than I usually spend but less than anything comparable from like Reformation or whatever. Added my black heels and a vintage clutch I got at Buffalo Exchange, plus red lipstick because I was worried about looking too… wholesome.

Walking into the bar, I felt that familiar flutter of imposter syndrome. Everyone else was wearing black or interesting shapes or pieces I recognized from Instagram. And there I was in my Boden dress, basically the fashion equivalent of shopping at New Seasons instead of the farmers market. Nice, but not exactly cutting-edge.

I headed straight for the bar and ordered a gin and tonic.

“I love your dress,” someone said next to me. I turned to find this woman I recognized from local fashion events – she runs social media for one of the bigger agencies downtown and always looks incredibly cool. “Great print. Where’s it from?”

I hesitated for like half a second. “It’s actually Boden.”

Her eyebrows went up slightly. “Really? It’s gorgeous. I haven’t looked at their stuff in forever.”

And just like that, my anxiety about wearing Boden to a cool person event completely disappeared. The rest of the night was normal networking stuff – small talk about projects, complaining about clients, the usual Portland creative scene gossip. Nobody else mentioned my dress either way.

By Friday I was genuinely sad the experiment was ending. There’s something really freeing about having parameters around your wardrobe choices. Instead of standing in my closet for ten minutes every morning going “I have nothing to wear” while staring at a full rack of clothes, I knew it would be Boden. I just had to decide which pieces.

For the final day I went full stereotype – striped dress with a bright cardigan, flat shoes, the works. I was leaning all the way into whatever Boden represents. When I was waiting for my latte in our office kitchen, Sarah from the creative team – who exclusively wears these amazing architectural black pieces and always looks like she stepped out of a minimalist design blog – looked me up and down.

“You know,” she said, stirring her tea, “you’ve looked really nice all week. Very… colorful.”

Coming from her, this was basically like getting featured in Vogue.

So what did I actually learn from my week as a walking Boden advertisement? A few things that surprised me, honestly.

First, clothes from one brand can look totally different depending on how you style them. The same cardigan I wore with jeans while working from home Tuesday looked completely different over a dress Friday when I was in the office.

Second, most people really don’t notice or care what brands you’re wearing as long as you look decent. I had this whole narrative built up about Boden having this specific “look” that would be immediately obvious, but turns out most busy people are too focused on their own stuff to analyze your outfit choices.

Third, there’s something genuinely nice about clothes that just… work. They fit consistently, they wash well, they don’t require special bras or body tape or any of the engineering that sometimes comes with trendier pieces. After years of boxy minimalist everything, it was kind of refreshing to wear clothes that actually had shape and fit my body properly.

And fourth – this is the one that made me slightly uncomfortable to realize – I felt prettier that week than I usually do. Not cooler or more fashionable, but prettier in like a conventional, accessible way. The cuts were flattering, the colors made my skin look good, the prints made me smile when I caught myself in mirrors. There’s probably something to unpack about why feeling “pretty” instead of “edgy” or “interesting” bothers me, but that’s therapy material for another day.

When Saturday rolled around and I could wear whatever I wanted again, I stood in front of my closet feeling weirdly reluctant to break the streak. I ended up putting on jeans from one brand, a tee from another, and a jacket from somewhere else entirely. It felt like coming back to reality after a brief vacation in some alternate universe where everything coordinates and people probably have golden retrievers and make elaborate weekend brunch plans.

Would I go full Boden permanently? Probably not. I still love my weird thrift finds and occasional splurge pieces too much. Fashion has always been about experimenting and expressing different parts of my personality, not finding a uniform and sticking to it forever.

But I’ll definitely keep wearing the pieces I bought. They’ll mix in with my existing wardrobe, adding color and pattern to all the black and gray I usually gravitate toward. And I’ll think about my mom every time I put them on, finally understanding what she saw in those catalog pages all those years ago.

Maybe that’s what Boden actually is – clothes your mom would approve of, but in the best possible way. Not groundbreaking or Instagram-worthy, but well-made and cheerful and designed to make you feel good instead of just look cool. In a fashion world that can feel intimidatingly trendy or impossibly expensive, there’s something really appealing about that.

Oh god, I just called something “really appealing” in relation to Boden. The transformation is complete. Someone needs to stage an intervention before I start shopping for sensible flats and developing opinions about throw pillows.