How my dad’s personal approach to style inspired my love of shopping – Essence

Few people have influenced my personal style like my dad. My timeline and mood boards are filled with influential A-listers like the late singer Aaliyah and 1970s movie references, but no one comes close to him. From the way I shop to the pieces I choose to my love of a good vintage find, my dad is – and always has been – a major source of inspiration.

For as long as I can remember, my dad loved shopping. Whether he was browsing the shelves of department stores or exploring boutiques in Paris and Switzerland during his business trips, nothing gave him more joy than a high-quality shopping experience, searching for niche brands not available in the U.S. And he always brought me something from each trip—opening up a wealth of possibilities beyond my beloved mall retailers.

One of my earliest memories is of browsing through the very limited shops in the heart of Indianapolis with my father, buying everything and nothing at the same time. We did this, just the two of us – although my mother would come along from time to time to make sure I got what I needed, instead of Only the things I wanted. We made our rounds at both Saks Fifth Avenue and Nordstrom’s children’s department before finally heading to ’90s retailer Stride Rite – which always had a batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies ready for customers to eat while they tried on shoes. It was the first time I thought of shopping as a pastime rather than an errand that had to be run.

When the online shopping boom began in the early to mid-2000s, my dad was at the forefront, introducing my mom and me to designer discount websites like Gilt Group, RueLaLa, and Bluefly (made famous by the hit TV series Gossip Girl). He was always ten steps ahead, setting timers for the digital fashion shows on these sites for his favorite brands like Ralph Lauren and Loro Piana.

The same goes for thrift shopping. Decades before Generation Z started flooding thrift stores, my dad would head to our local vintage boutiques to look for heavily discounted pieces from his favorite designers. For him, it was always about the thrill of a good bargain. The wallet-friendly price was just the icing on the cake. Today, he has his favorite thrift stores in my hometown, which in turn have become my new favorites as well.

It’s worth noting, however, that despite my dad’s athletic apparel shopping, he’s pretty picky. As a former tax attorney born in Mississippi, he has his favorite brands and his preferred navy color palette that he’s been closely tied to for the past 30 years of my life. I’ve heard the phrase “quality over quantity” more times than I can count as he tried to encourage me to invest in attractive fabrics and well-made pieces rather than the Forever 21 undershirts and Hollister henleys I brought home by the dozen.

I’d say his words finally rang true in adulthood, when I started sorting out the matted sweaters and ill-fitting pants that had accumulated over the years – undoing all the damage that had been done to my closet. At some point around the age of 23, his advice clicked – I started buying less and better stuff, but he was already anticipating what would come next.

A few years before Marie Kondo inspired a new generation of minimalists, my father was already at it. As quickly as he started to organize his wardrobe, he also got rid of things he no longer wore in order to focus on the essentials. And for no other reason than the fact that he wanted a lighter lifestyle.

When I moved to New York nearly a decade ago, the first thing he did was head to Woodbury Commons, the outdoor designer outlet just an hour outside of the city. I watched him Robocop-like scan the racks at Saks Off Fifth and Neiman’s Last Call before settling on a double-breasted suit by (now defunct) Ted Baker—which he still owns to this day.

It was then that I realized that everything I know and love about shopping is thanks to him. When I choose something today, I stick to classic black pieces that I can wear with anything. Much like my father, I invest in materials like cotton and linen that will last longer than a few seasons. And most importantly, I love a good bargain and vintage finds. Now, at 30, I sit in my apartment in New York, surrounded by Things that used to give me joy and now feels like junk, I’m thinking about how I can become a minimalist, just like my father.