For someone who has always loved dressing up and arranging outfits, shopping has been a major part of my life. But shopping has never been just about fashion or chasing after the next trend for me, it has always been a chance to socialize and blow off some creative steam. During middle school, it became a way for me to escape the drama of the school hallways. It was my mom and I’s thing. If I was having a particularly bad day, my mom and I would go window shopping and talk until we had tried on everything in the store.
I loved shopping almost as much as I loved to write. It was another outlet for me, in which I could express as well as surprise and rediscover myself. It was an easier and less taxing form of expression too. It didn’t take as much thought nor an obsession with perfection.
As I’ve gotten older, this is something I have come to embrace about my style, wanting it to be as effortless (and chic) as possible. In recent years, I had also begun to declutter. I started to prioritize quality over quantity. As I was downsizing, I found minimalism. Or, rather, minimalism found me on the brink of studying abroad in Florence. Before leaving, I set out to pack as lightly as possible with the goal being to make more room for experiences. Living out of a suitcase, turned out to be one of the most refreshing and eye-opening periods of my life.
Style was and is still important to me, in the sense that I want to feel comfortable and confident in what I am wearing everyday, but I don’t want to be drowning in options either.
Here is where the paradox of choice comes into play, an idea proposed by psychologist, Barry Schwartz, in which he argues that while having no choice at all is “unbearable,” having too many choices makes something as simple as buying a pair of jeans, for example, a lengthy and complicated process, which lends itself to “self-doubt, anxiety” and, even, “dread”. In our consumerist society, choice, the very thing associated with freedom, no longer “liberates” but “debilitates”. He goes as far as to say that it even has the power to “tyrannize”.
At the very least, I think that our consumer driven society can distract us from finding actual freedom and purpose in our lives. Why is everyone so concerned with earning more money? To buy things? Or to do things? And how often are we content with what we already have?
Schwartz summarizes it best when he acknowledges that while “some choice is good” that doesn’t necessarily mean that “more choice is better”.
My wardrobe now consists of about 62 items in total. And that’s everything, including shoes. There are certainly minimalists who own less, and there are some that own more. But I feel satisfied with my wardrobe. I rarely look into my closet wondering what I’m going to wear for the day, and on the occasions when I do, I am less tempted to shop and more motivated to get creative with what I have. Essentially, minimalism shouldn't be that restrictive. There isn't a one size fits all number of items. You’re allowed to find what works for you and your lifestyle and adjust accordingly (within reason, of course). Minimalism, for me, is more about the intention behind it--consuming and wasting less as well as creating literal (and figurative) space in one’s life. To be a minimalist, you don't need to get rid of everything; you just have to let go of all of the things that don’t add value or meaning to your life.
My closet was only the beginning for me. The only area that has remained untouched is my book collection. It is the one thing that I haven't downsized. But books have always added value and meaning to my life (they have been sources of conversation, connection, and growth), and so they stay as they are (you don't have to give up your hobbies or interests to be a minimalist).
Last summer, my fiance and I moved into a camper, and we have found that on most days it is spacious enough. The kitchen is a little cramped for two people who love to cook together, but otherwise we love how cozy it is. We have a few boxes of books and kitchen stuff at our parents' houses as well as some furniture for when we decide to actually plant ourselves somewhere, but otherwise our belongings fit comfortably in the camper, without clutter.
We moved into the camper because we knew that we couldn't get an apartment for just the summer months before we left for Prague, but, for me, moving into a camper was only possible because minimalism allowed me to feel lighter, less weighed down by things. I felt free to move.
Of course, it isn't always things that weigh one down, but being young, without children, and, in my case, newly graduated, the only things that could have been deterrents were the hassle of moving itself and/or fear.
And now, we live in a 344 square foot studio in the city. We do not have an abundance of space. What we have is used, not by our stuff as much as it is by us.
Eventually, when we move into an actual house we want to carry those same principles with us or, I guess, what we have learned by living in tiny spaces already, which is to keep in mind not just form but also function and to channel the old adage 'less is more.'
