I gave up having pockets three years ago--the day I met my first buyer. I remember her asking, “Does it have pockets?” and then saying, “No, it doesn’t,” in a happy sigh of pure dismay. At first she wasn't sure what to make of my decision, but she took a chance on me that I know she doesn't regret.
Originally, this was purely an ethical choice. I saw a documentary called Pockmarked by Pockets on how incredibly ruinous having pockets is to a fashion designer's dreams. The pain I saw in a visionary’s face as she implemented rudimentary satchels within the confines of a sleek and flowing dress form tugged at my shoulder-strings and made my armholes tear up. I didn't want to put anyone through that, so I decided: no pockets for me.
Since then, my experiences have reinforced this decision. I feel light, airy, and free, like I could twirl and twirl and twirl until the sun comes up, at which point we usually get to go outdoors for an exciting and carefree “walk of shame.”
All of my relationships are stronger. I feel closer to my wearer, because there’s no more double-folded layer of cloth separating us. I get to spend more time with Purse, since we have to bring him along now to carry her phone. I also get to meet many more people as a result of not having pockets, because Purse often gets left behind, and then we get to talk to everyone--people are so interesting!--and see if anyone saw him.
The best surprise, though, has been watching my wearer creatively try to somehow carry her things. Oh, the beauty of human ingenuity! It’s one thing to be worn and danced in; it’s another thing entirely to see someone's eyes light up with a frustrated epiphany when she realizes in despair that she has to put her phone in her bra. Let me tell you, there is nothing in the world more pleasurable than watching an ID card slip from a wristlet during a particularly bouncy song and get permanently lost among the feet of so many happy, gyrating people. Not to mention, that wristlet was a $35 boost to the economy that wouldn't have occurred if I had pockets.
I’m not going to judge you if you still have pockets, because I know it's a hard decision. Domineering men's fashion makes you think that clothes ought to have pockets. This is a sensible and sexist expectation that we must fight.
If you do have them, all I ask is that you think about it. Maybe, just maybe, if having pockets makes you even a bit uncomfortable, try cutting them off. I'm confident that you’ll never want to go back. And even if you did, at that point you can’t.