Minimalism Part 3: Gifts, Purchases, and Lusting After Jeans

Minimalism Part 1: How It All Started

Minimalism Part 2: Thinking It Through

The biggest way minimalism has affected me is the way I now feel about gifts and purchases.

I noticed it around Christmas, and now again with my birthday coming up. What do I want? Honestly, the idea of bringing more physical stuff into my life stresses me out, unless it's something really specific that I've thoughtfully decided I want. (And that really takes away from the element of surprise for people who love gift-giving.) We just do not have the space. If I don't already know where something's going to fit, the desire for it quickly turns to distaste. Instead, I'm interested in experiences, gift cards to restaurants/grocery stores/Bowmar Nutrition, or just plain money.

I noticed the anathema to new "stuff" most acutely on our anniversary trip in July. We had "fun money" all ready to go; we were going to do some (modest) fun shopping. We had a great time browsing stores of all types, but...the desire to buy was oddly dormant in me. In fact, I felt almost turned off by the expectation to buy. My closet is FULL. I don't NEED anything, I really don't.

I did end up buying one thing, because it was on sale and I realized that if I bought it, I could get rid of something else. It was a replacement, an upgrade rather than an addition.

That decision trigged a more complete shift in me, and I've decided that for a while, I'm mostly going to buy things when it means I can toss something I already have. I will slowly build up a collection of higher quality, classic items, and slowly own less and less cheap, random stuff. Instead of buying a few pairs of cheap, nearly-alike jeans that I'll have to replace every couple of years, I'm going to wait and save up and invest in a pair of "expensive," classic jeans that will 1) actually be comfortable, 2) last me for years, and 3) not go out of style next season.

Does this mean I will never own trendy clothes? No XD Like I've said, I'm not a true minimalist. But I do like the heightened awareness and more thoughtful acquisition process. It feels healthier, more value-dense, and more mature.

TANGENT: If you know me even a little bit well, you probably know that I hate wearing pants. I find them torturously uncomfortable and 95% of the time will choose to wear dresses or skirts. On our anniversary trip, I decided to see for myself if there was any truth to the Omg-Jeans-Can-Actually-Be-Comfortable-If-You-Buy-High-Quality/Expensive-Ones hype. For science, I tried on some jeans in the $120 range.

Well, folks, the hype is true. For better or for worse, I've now set my sights on buying some quality denim jeans soon.

And, of course, getting rid of one or two pairs to make room ;)

~Stephanie

Minimalism Part 2: Thinking It Through

Minimalism Part 1: How It All Started

Do I believe that minimalism is the "right" way to live?

I typed that semi-rhetorical question intending to follow it with "No, of course not." But then when I processed it, I became less sure.

Is it, maybe, and I'm just too afraid to part with my stuff?

In the ancient church, Christians didn't have a lot of stuff, and what they had was largely community-owned. (*quietly slides political soapbox out from under the bed and climbs upon it* Note that that was a personal decision that occurred within the church, not something forced upon people by the government. *puts away soapbox*)

The Bible tells us to store up treasures in heaven, and that where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Materialism is a big problem in our culture. We use possessions to show status, make life easier (sometimes too easy?), and make us feel special. Christmas, Valentine's Day, and weddings have all been cluttered up by "stuff."

Minimalism is about putting "stuff" in its place: if a thing brings value to your life, keep it. If it doesn't, ditch it. If we're honest about what brings value, this test weeds out quite a few of our possessions.

Having less physical clutter tends to promote less mental and emotional clutter, too. Do you ever just feel stressed when your space is messy? I know I do. There's something so peaceful about a freshly-cleaned room. If you live a minimalist life, you experience that sense of peace constantly (or at least more often) because you don't have enough stuff to create a messy space.

I definitely love the idea of minimalism. But I'm NOT a dog person even though I exclaim when I pass a cute pupper, and I'm NOT a minimalist even though I love the idea of living in a clean, spare space.

Aspects of Minimalism I Like
The Purpose - As we figured out above, I genuinely see the point and value of minimalism. "Stuff" should not be master over us. The minute you start to feel controlled or oppressed by your own possessions, you need to make a change.

The Peace - I do feel a sense of peace when I'm surrounded by less. I feel clean, unhindered, like my body and soul have the space to unfurl.

The Process - I think it's healthy and helpful to assess your life with the eye of a minimalist. What things--both physical and non-physical--add value to your life? What things just take up space, actively get in your way, or bother you? Why do you still have (blank)? Why do you still do (blank)? Why are you still friends with (blank)?

The Look* - I actually really like minimalism as a style. In high school, when Pinterest was big and minimalism barely a thing, I would collect images of rooms of gray, white, and black; furnished with simple, clean-cut pieces; and decorated with single items placed on shelves and tables.

Aspects of Minimalism I Struggle With
The Someday Items - I am the person who can create an outfit for any occasion at any moment. Do I need a Great Gatsby-themed outfit? I can make it. Do I need a Lois Lane outfit? I can make it. Do I need a Winter outfit to go as one of the four seasons? I can make it. Why can I do this? Because I have pieces in my closet that are completely random and useless 90% of the time. But the 10% brings me a lot of joy. Minimalism would tell me to get rid of those completely random and usually useless items.

Clothes in General - This is probably because I'm still traumatized from my Pre-Wedding Purge, where I got rid of things I didn't want to move into our apartment or didn't think a "wife" would wear. (I know. Literally no idea why I thought getting married would instantly age me ten years and radically alter my personality. I'm still completely baffled and miffed at Past Me.) During this purge, I donated a lot of items that I've since really missed, which makes me hesitate to get rid of things.

Family Heirlooms - Do I need multiple complete china sets, multiple complete silver sets, a WWI helmet, and a bunch of heavy, dark, old furniture? You bet your bonnet I do not. But one day, I will have them, and they have been in my family for generations. Family is very important to me. Now, I know a minimalist--and even lots of non-minimalists--will tell me that family is not "stuff" and that I can love and respect my family without taking on a burden of possessions. My own family would tell me this. But I struggle with it, a lot.

Books, Duh - Minimalists can be all about reading books and bettering oneself, but they are not about owning books, especially not physical ones. Gabe and I are very much about owning books. One day we hope to have a library, and we've already got a pretty good start.

Do I believe that minimalism is the "right" way to live?

I don't know. But I'm leaning towards "yeah, maybe," and my lifestyle is starting to show it.

In Minimalism Part 3 (the irony of having a million posts on minimalism...), I'll be thinking about how minimalism has changed the way I view gifts and purchases.

~Stephanie

*Does it bother me that I couldn't come up with another P word for parallelism's sake? No, no it doesn't.**

**Yes, yes it does.

Minimalism Part 1: How It All Started

It started one year ago, almost to the day.

Everyone gets the End-of-Vacation Blues, but coming back from our second anniversary trip was especially hard: we were abandoning a clean, bright, spacious hotel room for our cluttered, dark, cramped apartment. We were going from a bedroom where we could get out of bed on either side to a bedroom where one of us had to crawl across the mattress and get out on the other side. We were leaving a place that held what we needed and returning to a place that held more than we even wanted.

We got home around 11pm and sat on the couch, discouraged, grumpy, and unhappy to be home.

"What can we do?" I said, looking Gabe dead in the eye. "I can't live like this. This is miserable."

We brainstormed for a few minutes, about how to rearrange the furniture so that we could at least get out of the freaking bed on either side. It was a long, involved game of mental Tetris, but we had a plan with potential.

"How long do you think this would take?" I asked.

"A couple of hours probably," Gabe admitted.

"Let's do it."

Gabe stared at me, head turned in a wary way. I famously hate being up late. I famously hate (HATE) moving furniture. "Really?"

"Yes. But let's start now before I change my mind."

In the bedroom, we unearthed the IKEA desk from under its pile of textbooks, books, papers, homework, belts, stamps, figurines, stationery, loose change, notebooks, and pens. We moved the piles into the living room. We moved the desk itself into the living room.

In the bedroom, we unearthed the dresser from under its piles of mail, socks, jewelry, jewelry boxes, watches, bowls of trinkets, loose change, puzzles, and dead batteries. We moved the dresser to the opposite wall.

With great effort, we dislodged our mattress from the bed frame and moved it off the bed. We moved the bed to another wall and remade it. I nearly cried at how beautiful it was to see all the space on either side.

In the living room, we moved a small bookshelf, situated the IKEA desk in the corner, and moved an end table into the bedroom.

We were left staring at several piles of junk in each room, but the furniture looked good. The bones of the rooms looked good. It felt good.

We gave ourselves a two-day deadline to take care of the piles of junk. To my utter SHOCK, we actually made that deadline.

As I lay in bed each night, I could breathe easier. Our apartment was still cluttered, dark, and cramped, but I could see better that it didn't have to be. We'd gotten rid of most of the junk that had comprised the displaced piles, and it had felt really good. We didn't need most of it. We didn't even want most of it. We could breathe easier without it cluttering up our vision and, consequently, our minds.

I wanted more of that feeling.

The next week I went through the jewelry that had been on my side of the dresser and in my hanging jewelry organizer. I only ever wore about half of it, if that. I easily gave away or donated the pieces that I didn't need, and I've actually had no ragrets--which, I will say, is NOT always the case with me. #PurgeWisely #RIPFavoriteWhiteCropTopFromMyPre-MarriagePurge

Since then, I've been using fewer seasonal decorations, I've been purging my belongings in stages, and I've become less receptive to gifts and purchases.

Am I a minimalist now? No. Not at all. Not even close. All you have to do is listen to a real minimalist podcast or watch a real minimalist YouTuber (shameless plug for my friend Ashley's channel) to know that I'm far from it.

Would I like to be a minimalist? Honestly, I'm not sure. That's kind of what this blog is all about: figuring out what's actually Me.

In Minimalism Part 2, I'll be thinking through minimalism's pros and cons, what I agree with and what I disagree with, and the areas in which I find myself particularly struggling with the concept.

~Stephanie