In the Red: 'I'm buying a new wardrobe – and it's all thanks to Mum'

My mother doesn't like my picture. You know, that one on the left. Admittedly neither do I, but for entirely different reasons. My main concern is the size of my nose; Mum, however, just thinks I look scruffy. "What are you wearing?" she complains each week in her Saturday morning phone call. "Really. That dress is falling apart."

I'm sure it's not, but she isn't one to buy my denials. "You can actually see the threads hanging off the hem," she insists. "Couldn't you have made an effort?"

The truth is that I did. That's the most worrying thing about it. In fact, I made a considerable effort, spending a whole evening trying on different outfits, squinting into the mirror to imagine how I'd look from different angles. And I specifically chose that dress because I thought it was flattering. Plus it looked nice and cheerful and, you know, if there's one thing you want to look when you're standing next to a personal finance column it's cheerful.

The problem is that I don't own anything very smart. Or, for that matter, anything very practical. I'm just too cheap. Too cheap, and too vain. It isn't the best of combinations: if forced to decide between a demure skirt-suit and a colourful floral minidress, well, I'm afraid it's the minidress every time. And, since I've yet to reach the stage where I can fork out for both, I've spent most of my adult life doing just that: choosing fashion over form.

Another problem, I suppose, is my penchant for vintage. Regular readers will no doubt have heard more than enough about my fondness for second-hand everything: furniture, fashion, birthday presents. I'm always banging on about how cheap, trendy and environmentally friendly adopting someone's old cast-offs can be. And it's true, shopping like that is terrific. But one thing it isn't great for is looking smart: moth holes, in my experience, generally put paid to attempts at elegance.

So I'm going to change my ways. With autumn just around the corner, the time has come to smarten up. In truth, this may have less to do with my mother's phone calls and more to do with the fact that stories about sensible shopping are unavoidable at the moment. Every glossy on the newsstand is proclaiming the "death of fast fashion", urging us instead to make "investment buys", opt for "future-proof" purchases and create "capsule wardrobes". The last suggestion is thanks in large part to the release of former Elle editor Nina Garcia's new book The One Hundred, which kindly enlightens us women as to the 100 items we should "never be without".

I can't help but think that 100 seems rather a lot, especially given that she includes a signet ring, bottle of champagne, and fedora. I mean, really, a fedora? But quibbles aside, it isn't a bad idea. I'm sure I can make do with 10 basic items: a fitted shirt or two, some black trousers, a pair of sensible shoes and so on. It's just a matter of where to get them and, of course, of how much to spend. On the one hand, I'm reluctant to shell out too much. On the other, isn't the point of a "wardrobe staple" that it's something of an investment? It's supposed to mark the difference between being cheap and economical.

The answer, I suppose, is to do things piecemeal: to buy one item at a time in a methodical fashion. A bit like paying instalments on a loan, only without the interest rates or the threat of bailiffs. In a way, it's a reverse diet for my wardrobe: it would be unhealthy (financially) to go for a quick fix, so I'm going to do it gradually instead. As to whether I'll stick to my regime... Well, no doubt my mother will see to that. Every Saturday morning, when she calls me to check up.

a.jarvis@independent.co.uk