Why I lost my style

Understanding what went wrong

Apr 27, 2025

text — Photo by Marcus Ganahl on Unsplash

A few weeks ago, I wrote about losing my style. If you missed it, it was called My style is a mess, and you can catch up here. Today’s piece follows on with the style theme. Hope you enjoy it.

What do you do when you’ve lost your style, fashion sense and don’t know who you are anymore? That is the question I’ve been asking.

What do you do when things have become so bad that you can’t even cobble a basic outfit together to go to the local Co-op, never mind a work event or a special occasion? Well…the first step, obviously, is to consult Google because (ahem) Google will have all the answers.

So, I go online and type, ‘losing my fashion sense’ and the AI overview tells me that my incompetence in the fashion department is ‘down to a shift in my priorities and preferences, and to reignite my style I should experiment with new looks and different outfits, and put together some mood boards, and not be afraid to step outside my comfort zone and try new things, and finally, I should remember that personal style is a journey, not a destination’.

For f**k’s sake.

Thankfully, below the AI blurb, there’s a link to a stylist on YouTube—a real person (at least I think she’s real) addressing the topic in a piece to camera from an immaculately designed wardrobe turned dressing room somewhere in America.

‘You are not alone,’ she tells me. ‘You. Are. Not. Alone.’ She sees it all the time. Women who have lost their way so much they don’t know who they are anymore. Women who are reduced to tears in changing rooms, silently sobbing behind curtains as they try to get to grips with the latest trends.

‘The good news is that there is a way out,’ the stylist says. ‘And the first part is understanding why you lost your style.’ Only then, it seems, can the problem be tackled.

I take a deep breath and think long and hard, trying to pinpoint a period in my life when my style upped and left. What went wrong? How did I go from being a fashion-conscious teenager to a middle-aged woman living in hoodies and boyfriend jeans?

It wasn’t always like this. For many years, 20 in fact, I dressed myself to go to work—to actually leave the house and go to an office. I wore dresses with tights and long boots (my favourite look), trousers and shirts, suits, skinny jeans and dressy tops, jumpers, jackets, long coats, short coats.

I loved dressing up for nights out, wearing beautiful dresses in bold colours (red, I love red), and I had a wardrobe full of holiday dresses in every colour and length. I even had a colour analysis with House of Colour, so knew my wow colours. I owned stilettos and boots (of the ankle and long variety), work shoes and party shoes, and the only time I ever wore trainers was to run.

person holding white and black striped shirt — Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash

I enjoyed shopping for new clothes, felt comfortable and, dare I say it, confident in what I wore. I didn’t know designers, or follow fashion, and honestly, trying to match handbags and outfits was always beyond my capability. But I found my way, and that was enough.

Did the change come when I turned forty in summer 2019? I don’t think so. At that point, I was happy in myself and looking forward to a new decade, where I vowed the focus would be on having fun and adventures. Not once did I worry about clothes, or struggle to dress myself.

The change came during the covid years—when life and style as we knew it changed beyond recognition. The working from home wardrobe put comfort first. Jeans and hoodies became the norm, and when we were released from lockdown, everyone emerged wearing ‘mom jeans’ and trainers (trainers with everything) and skinny jeans were banished from wardrobes around the world. Except mine, I might add.

At that point, I started to feel unsure of myself. It was the jeans what did it! All those new styles. Barrel, carrot, horseshoe, cigarette—so many types of jeans. Why, I ask myself now, didn’t I stride into the store and sort myself out as I would have done in previous years? What was so wrong with me that I’d lost a basic ability to pick a pair of jeans?

The AI bot is right in that my priorities did change. There was so much loss for everyone during the pandemic. For a few years, and I know I’m not alone here, it was loss after loss. Friends, family, much-loved pets. The grief was overwhelming, and I couldn’t have cared less about fashion.

As well as this, I entered the perimenopause. Almost overnight, I went from being a confident, outgoing, anything is possible young (ish) woman to an anxious old has-been who thought the best years were over. I’m not exaggerating here—for me, perimenopause brought with it a sense of impending doom. I couldn’t focus or make a decision, and I cried, and I got cross (very cross) and I cried some more and then raged at anyone and everyone, and then cried… It took me a while to realise this wasn’t normal and was probably my hormones. I could barely function, never mind shop.

Thankfully, HRT has helped me through, bringing balance, calmness of mind and a willingness to embrace fashion once again. My grief will always be there, but I work through it, and I’m determined to make the most of every moment of life and to do it with style.

While I can google and try to find my own way, I’m not sure it’s the best approach for me. I need one-to-one advice from a professional stylist (in-person and not through YouTube) someone who understands style and can help me rediscover mine. I go back online, email the House of Colour, where years ago, I had my colour analysis, and arrange a style consultation. When it comes to finding my style, it is a solid and sensible first step.

Have you ever lost your style? Would you consider style analysis? Does your style reflect your personality? Let me know in the comments.