The Cost-Per-Wear Spreadsheet Is Going Viral on TikTok—Here's the One I Actually Use

(This morning I roasted Drunk Elephant's marketing rebrand; this afternoon, let's talk about the math that actually matters.)

The Verdict: Yes, you should absolutely be calculating cost-per-wear (CPW). No, the viral TikTok spreadsheets aren't wrong—they're just incomplete. Here's the system I've used for three years, refined after tracking 200+ items, and why most people doing CPW are still getting scammed by "investment pieces" that aren't.

Why CPW Suddenly Matters (Again)

Every few months, TikTok "discovers" cost-per-wear like it's a new concept. This time, it's spreadsheets. Gen Z creators are filming themselves inputting $89 Zara blazers and calculating that at 4 wears, they're paying $22.25 per use. The comments are full of "omg I never thought of this" and "this is why I'm broke."

Look, I'm glad the math is trending. But here's the thing: basic CPW doesn't tell the whole story. If you're just dividing price by wears, you're missing the variables that actually determine whether something belongs in your closet—or in my Graveyard of Regret.

The FreshFinds CPW System (With All the Variables)

Here's the spreadsheet I maintain. I track these columns for every item over $50:

1. Base CPW (The Obvious One)

Formula: Purchase Price ÷ Times Worn

Simple. If you buy a $200 coat and wear it 40 times, your CPW is $5. This is where most TikTok tutorials stop.

But let's be real: this number is useless without context. That $200 coat might have a $5 CPW, but if it pills after wash #3 and you have to retire it at wear #25, your actual CPW is $8—and you got played.

2. The Longevity Adjustment

Formula: (Purchase Price + Maintenance Costs) ÷ Expected Lifespan in Wears

Maintenance costs include:

• Dry cleaning ($15-25 per visit for coats, blazers, silk)
• Repairs (heel taps, button replacements, patching)
• Storage (cedar blocks, garment bags, moth prevention)

Real example: I bought a vintage wool coat for $180. Dry cleaning twice a season at $20 per visit = $40/year. Over 5 years, that's $200 in maintenance. My actual cost isn't $180—it's $380. Divide by the 150 times I'll wear it, and my real CPW is $2.53.

Meanwhile, my $120 "dry clean only" blazer from a certain fast-fashion retailer that shall not be named? The fabric degraded after 6 washes. Total wears: 18. CPW: $6.67. Plus $60 in dry cleaning I wasted on a disposable item.

The Math: The "expensive" vintage coat was actually cheaper per wear. (lol)

3. The Opportunity Cost Factor

This is the column that separates actual financial literacy from spreadsheet theater.

Every item in your closet occupies physical and mental real estate. That $45 trendy top with a CPW of $15 (3 wears) isn't just a bad purchase—it's preventing you from wearing something else. It's decision fatigue every morning. It's the "I have nothing to wear" spiral when you're staring at a rack of one-hit wonders.

I calculate this subjectively on a 1-5 scale:

• 1: Versatile, goes with everything, zero decision fatigue
• 3: Moderately versatile, occasional "what do I wear this with?" moments
• 5: Statement piece worn twice, now sits there judging you

Items scoring 4 or 5 get flagged for donation, regardless of CPW. Because low CPW doesn't matter if you hate wearing it.

4. The Depreciation Curve

Some items—mostly trend-driven pieces—have a wearability half-life. That "quiet luxury" cashmere crewneck everyone's buying right now? In 18 months, the silhouette will look dated, and you'll reach for it less and less.

I estimate a "trend depreciation factor" for each purchase:

• Timeless (0% depreciation): Black wool coat, white button-down, dark denim
• Slow trend (25% depreciation): Classic silhouettes in seasonal colors
• Fast trend (60% depreciation): Micro-trend items (cargo pants, ballet flats revival, whatever the algorithm is pushing)
• Disposable (90% depreciation): Novelty prints, "aesthetic" pieces with no function

If I'm buying a fast-trend item, I adjust my target CPW down significantly. If I'm only going to want to wear it for one season, it needs a CPW under $3 to justify the purchase.

What the Viral Spreadsheets Get Wrong

I've watched about 30 of these TikTok tutorials this week. Here's what's missing from most of them:

Mistake #1: Tracking "Projected Wears" Instead of Actual Wears

Nothing—nothing—is more delusional than buying something and thinking "I'll wear this twice a week!" You won't. You will wear it once, feel slightly uncomfortable, and it will hang in your closet like a reproach.

I don't add an item to my CPW tracker until I've worn it 5 times. Before that, it's in "probationary status." Too many "investment pieces" fail the 5-wear test. (Looking at you, structured blazers that restrict arm movement.)

Mistake #2: Ignoring Cost-Per-Use for Non-Clothing

This system works for everything. That $40 candle? Divide by burn hours. That $200 skincare set? Divide by applications. The $1,190 Row sweatpants from yesterday's post? If you wear them 200 times (doubtful, given dry-cleaning hassle), that's still $5.95 per wear—for sweatpants.

The Rule: If it costs money and occupies space, it gets the math.

Mistake #3: Treating CPW as Justification Instead of Filter

The most dangerous thing I see: people using CPW to justify expensive purchases they can't afford.

"But if I wear this $400 bag 400 times, it's only $1 per wear!"

Sure. But you need to spend $400 today. Do you have $400 today? Or are you putting it on a credit card at 24% APR, which means that $400 bag actually costs $496 if you take a year to pay it off? Now your CPW is $1.24—and that's if you actually hit 400 wears, which you won't, because you'll be terrified to use it.

CPW is a filter, not a permission slip. It should eliminate purchases, not enable them.

The Categories That Fail CPW (Almost Always)

After three years of tracking, here are the items that consistently underperform, no matter how "investment" the marketing claims:

1. Occasion Wear You Rent Once

Wedding guest dresses, NYE sequins, "statement" coats for events. These average a CPW of $50-200. Just rent them. Nuuly, Rent the Runway, your friend's closet—I don't care. Do not buy a $300 dress for a 6-hour event.

2. "Quiet Luxury" Basics That Aren't Basic

The $90 white t-shirt. The $140 "perfect" sweatpants. The $200 "elevated" cardigan. These items have massive marketing budgets and tiny actual advantages over their $25 counterparts.

Reality check: I bought the viral $90 "organic pima cotton" tee and a $12 Hanes Beefy-T. After 20 washes, the Hanes looked better. The expensive one developed a weird sheen and neckline sag. CPW on the Hanes: $0.60 and falling. CPW on the luxury tee: $4.50 and rising. (lol)

3. Duplicates of Things You Already Own

Your seventh black sweater. Your fourth pair of "slightly different" jeans. These have infinite CPW because you'll always reach for the favorite, and the duplicates will sit there, unworn, performing guilt instead of function.

If I buy something in a category where I already own 2+ items, it needs to replace something, not add to the pile. Donate the inferior version immediately, or don't buy.

How to Build Your Own CPW Tracker (The Simple Version)

You don't need my complicated system to start. Here's the 5-column starter template:

Item	Purchase Price	Times Worn	Current CPW	Status
Black Wool Coat	$180	47	$3.83	Keep
Trend Blazer	$89	3	$29.67	Donate
Vintage Levi's	$45	62	$0.73	Keep Forever

Update the "Times Worn" column weekly. Don't guess—actually count. After 6 months, sort by CPW. The items at the bottom? That's your donation pile. The items at the top? That's your blueprint for future purchases.

What CPW Revealed About My Own Spending

Three years of data, and here's what's humbling:

My best CPW items:

• Vintage Levi's 501s ($45, CPW $0.42)
• Everlane cashmere crewneck (bought on deep sale, $68, CPW $0.85)
• Clarks desert boots ($90, CPW $1.12)
• Uniqlo Heattech turtlenecks ($20, CPW $0.31)

My worst CPW items:

• "Investment" silk blouse that wrinkles if you look at it ($140, CPW $23.33—4 wears before I gave up)
• Trendy "quiet luxury" matching set that looked wrong on my body ($180, CPW $36—5 wears)
• Designer sunglasses I was too careful with ($220, CPW $110—2 wears, then lost them)

The pattern? The expensive stuff often fails. The boring, well-made basics win. Every time.

The Bottom Line

Cost-per-wear isn't a new concept. Your grandmother was doing CPW math every time she chose between the "good" coat and the "going out" coat. What's new is that we have the data to prove what we've always known: most trendy purchases are financial losers, and most "boring" quality basics are financial winners.

The viral TikTok spreadsheets are a good start. But don't stop at division. Factor in maintenance, opportunity cost, and trend depreciation. Track actual wears, not projected fantasy wears. And never—never—use CPW to justify spending money you don't have.

The goal isn't to optimize yourself into buying expensive things. The goal is to stop buying things that don't earn their keep.

Keep or Toss: Keep the concept. Toss the overcomplicated justification math. If a purchase needs a spreadsheet to make sense, it probably doesn't.

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Want my actual Google Sheets template? DM me. Anti-gatekeeping always. (lol)