Fashion might want you to believe it’s all about personality and self-expression, but mostly it’s a long-running joke called consumerism wearing a trench coat and sunglasses. Every autumn, the same story unfolds: stores whisper that it’s time to upgrade again, because last year’s «timeless basics» suddenly look embarrassing, or, worse, about two years away from being called «vintage» by someone with TikTok following aspirations. While I pride myself on buying better and buying less, sometimes a piece of clothing I don’t yet own manages to convince me it’s the missing puzzle piece between happiness and existential dread. That’s probably why they call it grails, huh?

It’s easy to act holier-than-thou about minimalism, but a new jacket somehow turns into a spiritual awakening, promising warmth, charisma, and the ability to make small talk at bus stops. Meanwhile, entire closet sections serve as monuments to «good decisions» that never actually made it out of the house. There’s a quiet comedy in chasing after the next must-have, fully aware it’s going to join the ranks of «why did I buy this?» by next fall.