For most, the daily ritual of getting dressed is a carefully orchestrated dance. They pirouette around their closets, agonizing over colour palettes, layering options, and that ever-present question: “Do I look well in it?”
But for me, the question of clothing has always been a non-issue. Perhaps even a non-existent one.
Since the age of twelve, my wardrobe has always and consistently been a fortress of comfortable familiarity and functionality. It represents not a capsule collection curated by a stylist; it is a uniform forged in practicality and a deep disdain for wasted mental energy and money.
You might call it boring, but I call it freedom.
Now. When I say that my outfit is a functional uniform, I really mean it. I essentially wear just two kinds of dresses.
The Eastern, Spiritual Side
One half of this uniform embraces my spiritual side. Think flowing 唐裝 Tangzhuang robes, a martial artist’s Japanese Keikogi, the practical simplicity of a Kāṣāya, or the serene drape of a kimono – essentially all variations on the theme of comfort and ease of movement.
Specifically, I wear the three parts of the Kāṣāya: the “triple robe,” or Ticīvara for ceremonies and rituals with my Sangha, and also for extended periods throughout the day at home. The Ticīvara is the monastic robe as described more fully in the Theravāda Vinaya, at Vin 1:94 289. Its three parts are called antarvāsa (the inner layer for the lower part of the body), the uttarāsaṅga (the robe covering the upper body), and the saṃghāti (the outer cloak).
At home, I very often wear also Japanese Gis or Kimonos. They cocoon me in comfort, allowing me to move, meditate, or simply exist without the distraction of a restricting waistband or a neckline that digs.
When going out, I will be often wearing Tangzhuang robes, the ones you usually associate with Chinese Martial Arts practice.
The Western, Practical Side
The other half of my sartorial spectrum leans towards a more casual, yet equally comfortable, attire. Corduroy trousers or jeans form the base, often paired with a simple shirt (cotton in summer, flannel in winter) and a trusty pullover. When the weather demands more, a Scottish tweed jacket steps in, and when the weather becomes really rigid then I wear a heavy fleece jacket over the pullover.
Colours? They are always the same: dark greys, blacks, deep blues, and some dark Argyle patterns.
The key here, as with my spiritual garb, is looseness. Tight clothing is anathema to me.
My outfit choices explained
The unifying thread between these seemingly disparate styles? They all exist in a state of comfortable decision against the tyranny of the trivial. Because let’s be honest, folks, clothing serves a purely utilitarian purpose, not an aesthetical one.
At its core, it’s all about keeping us warm, protecting us from the elements, or helping us carry some tool we use during our days. Sure, some might argue for the expressive power of fashion, a way to project an image or capture attention. But is that truly necessary for a purposeful, fulfilling life?
I spend my days focused on things that matter – spiritual growth, connection with my community, and the pursuit of knowledge. Wasting precious mental energy, and money, on what shade of blue coordinates best with my shoes is, frankly, a luxury I do not want to afford. The time saved by having a uniform goes towards activities with real meaning.
Think about it. How many minutes, perhaps even hours, do you spend each week agonizing over what to wear? That time could be spent reading, learning a new skill, or simply helping others without the pressure of projecting an image – often not real – of yourself.
My uniform is a statement, not of apathy, but of liberation. It’s a bold choice against the pressure to conform, a rejection of the notion that self-worth is measured by the labels we wear. It’s a testament to the power of comfort and the freedom found in letting go of the superficial.
So, the next time you see me, don’t judge my lack of sartorial variety. Recognize it for what it is: a quiet rebellion against the tyranny of the trivial and the capitalistic market, as I live my life focused on what truly matters, wearing a whole lot of functional clothes.
Raffaello Palandri's Blog 
My dad was the same he too chose simple functional formal clothing with practical colours based on the weather.
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Nice to hear that!
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