A second look

Our choices are not forever. Nor are we always the same women.

Dear reader,

There’s something I’ve learnt over the years: not everything we like has to belong to us. And not everything we once chose has to stay with us forever.

It happens with clothes, with objects, with habits, with the people in our lives and, sometimes, even with the way we understand life itself.

For a long time we were taught to add. More clothes, more trends, more things to do, more versions of ourselves. More and more of everything.

And yet, over the years, I have come to value something else far more: the ability to choose.

To choose what we want to keep, what we are willing to change and what has simply stopped making sense.

Think, for instance, of that piece you’ve kept for years. You loved it when you bought it, it’s still beautiful and it probably still fits you perfectly.

But something no longer fits.

It suits you. But it’s no longer you.

And that’s perfectly fine.

Because the choices we made at another time answered to the woman we were then. To our tastes, our circumstances and our way of seeing the world.

It doesn’t mean we were wrong. It means we’ve evolved.

And that, far from being a contradiction, strikes me as one of the most interesting things in life.

That’s why I wanted to call this first letter A second look.

Because looking again doesn’t necessarily mean changing everything. Sometimes it means discovering the value of what we already have. Sometimes it means admitting that something that once fascinated us no longer holds the same place.

And, at times, it means daring to try what we would never have chosen a few years ago.

Perfection is not the point

Something has always struck me about the world of image: that insistence on finding the perfect formula.

The perfect wardrobe. The ideal silhouette. The colours that never fail. The pieces every woman is supposed to own.

But who decided that we should all aspire to the same thing?

Personally, I find women with personality far more interesting than perfect women.

The ones who wear enormous glasses because they love them. The ones who pair unexpected colours. The ones who prefer a man-tailored coat, an inherited jewel or a piece nobody else would have dared to choose.

I am drawn to women who have something of their own.

Because style is not about constantly correcting what makes us different. It is about knowing it, understanding it and learning to use it in our favour.

We can change our tastes, our opinions, the way we dress and even our priorities without losing our essence.

In fact, I believe it is often precisely through those changes that we come to discover it.

It isn’t about reaching a perfect version of ourselves. It’s about building a version that’s more and more authentic.

And that authenticity doesn’t have to be flawless, discreet, minimalist or follow any trend.

It can be bold, reserved, extravagant, classic or a wonderful mix of many things.

What interests me is that it’s ours.

A second look at your wardrobe

A small exercise to begin

Today I’d like to suggest something simple.

Find a piece in your wardrobe that you’ve kept for a long time but hardly ever wear.

Look at it and ask yourself:

01. Does it still represent me, or does it belong to another stage of my life?

02. Do I keep it because I really like it, or because it once meant something to me?

03. If I found it in a shop today, would I choose it again?

You don’t have to give it away, sell it or get rid of it.

Perhaps you’ll find that you still love it and had simply forgotten how to wear it. Perhaps it needs a different combination. Or perhaps it has had its time.

All three answers are valid.

Because choosing also means being free to choose again.

The CARO library

A book that teaches us to look

In Praise of Shadows, by Junichirō Tanizaki.

To open our small library I’ve chosen an essay on a beauty that doesn’t need to impose itself.

Tanizaki invites us to notice the nuances, the shadows, the textures and those small details that tend to go unnoticed when we only pay attention to the obvious.

I am especially drawn to that way of understanding aesthetics.

Because we are so used to looking for the flawless that, at times, we forget to appreciate the singular.

An imperfect texture, the light in a room, an old piece or an object whose beauty we discover long after we first owned it.

It’s a short, contemplative and different read.

My invitation: look again at something everyday that you’ve always taken for granted. Perhaps you’ll find in it a beauty you hadn’t known how to appreciate.

Before I say goodbye…

There’s something I’d like you to take away from this first letter.

We are under no obligation to remain the women we were when we made certain decisions.

We can change our minds, start again, recover something we had forgotten or discover interests we never imagined having.

We can keep learning.

And, above all, we can do it without feeling that we need to become someone else in order to be better.

Our essence doesn’t lie in standing still. It lies in recognising what is still ours, even while everything else evolves.

I’d like A letter from CARO to be exactly that: a place to meet.

A place to talk about style, beauty, books, objects, discoveries and those small things that make life more interesting.

No universal formulas. No pressure to follow everything. With sensitivity, curiosity and a mind of our own.

Because getting dressed is only the beginning.

And before I close, I’d like to ask you something:

Is there a choice you made years ago that you would make completely differently today?

It can be a piece of clothing, a colour, a habit or any small decision.

If you feel like it, simply reply to this letter. I’d love to hear from you.

Thank you for joining me in this first edition.

With love,

CARO

“Elegance is not about having no flaws. It is about not letting them define who you are.”

Caro