It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons where the sun is doing that golden-hour thing way too early, and I’m sitting in my favorite corner of a tiny coffee shop in Brooklyn. The espresso machine is hissing in the background, and someone’s playing a lo-fi playlist that feels like a warm hug. I came here to escape the chaos of my own apartment—laundry pile, unanswered emails, you name it—but mostly because I needed to think about my wardrobe. I’ve been on this orientdig spreadsheet kick lately. Not the boring kind your boss sends you, but the kind where you track everything you own and actually want to wear. I started…