My Saturday Morning Spreadsheet Confession

So, I was killing time this Saturday morning, waiting for my matcha latte at this tiny café in Brooklyn. You know the type — mismatched chairs, a plant that’s definitely seen better days, and the barista who remembers your order if you tip well. I was scrolling through my phone, half-listening to the girl next to me complain about her spreadsheet at work. And I laughed to myself because, honestly, I’ve become that person who actually likes spreadsheets now. Not the boring corporate kind — the orientdig spreadsheet kind. Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But hear me out.

It started last month when I was trying to organize my fall wardrobe. I have this habit of buying the same things over and over — black turtlenecks, slightly different ankle boots — and I wanted to actually see what I owned. So I made this orientdig spreadsheet with columns for item, color, season, and a little notes section for “worn with what.” It’s not like I’m a data analyst. I just needed a visual, you know? And it worked. Suddenly I could see gaps — like, why do I have four gray sweaters but no good navy one? And it made me stop impulse-buying those random sale items because I could literally see that I already had a similar thing.

Anyway, the barista finally calls my name — no, it’s not spelled right, but I’ve given up correcting people — and I grab my latte. I’m wearing my favorite vintage Levi’s, a cream sweater from Uniqlo (boring but perfect), and my beat-up Converse. Not a fashion moment, but comfy. I sat back down and started adding a new tab to my orientdig spreadsheet — this time for my “wishlist.” Because I’ve been seeing these amazing wide-leg trousers everywhere, and I told myself: if they’re still on my mind in two weeks, I’ll get them. The spreadsheet keeps me honest. No more buying stuff that’s just “trending” but doesn’t fit my actual life.

My friend Maya texted me while I was updating it: “What are you doing?” And I sent her a screenshot of the orientdig spreadsheet. She was like, “You’re a nerd.” But then she asked me to send her a copy. Classic. Now we both use it, and we have this running joke where we share our “stats” — like, “I’ve worn my beige blazer 12 times this month, what about you?” It’s silly, but it makes fashion feel less like a competition and more like a shared hobby.

I finished my latte and walked home through the park. The leaves were just starting to turn, and I thought about how my wardrobe actually matches the season now — not because I bought a bunch of new stuff, but because the orientdig spreadsheet helped me see what I already had. I wore my tan trench coat (old, from Zara like three years ago) and felt… put-together. Not because the outfit was groundbreaking, but because I knew exactly why I chose it. The spreadsheet isn’t about perfection — it’s about intention.

Anyway, I’m home now, and I’m probably going to spend the rest of the afternoon browsing Pinterest for those trousers. But I’ll add them to the spreadsheet first. Let myself sit with the idea. Maybe by next week, they’ll be the perfect buy. Or maybe I’ll realize I actually prefer my current jeans. Either way, the spreadsheet has my back.