Cleaning House, Part Two: My Minimal Wardrobe

 

Dear readers, it has been a couple weeks, but I'm back. As promised, today's post is about my wardrobe and how my recent venture into minimalism has changed the way I approach clothes. Now, I'm not going to, for one second, pretend I'm a stylish person who has it together when it comes to dressing. I'm not, and I don't. This post is just about where I was, where I am, and where I'm going with my closet.

As you know, all this started when I binge-watched Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix back in December. Her first step to tidying was taking all your clothing out of your closet, piling them up, asking yourself, "Does this spark joy?" and letting things go if they didn't. 

And that's where I ran into my first problem. Very little of my clothing sparked joy, and I quickly realized that if I threw away everything I felt nothing about, I'd have nothing to wear. I'd been dressing on autopilot every morning for years, leaning into safe pieces and colors and combinations, not interested in what anyone thought, least of all myself. I think the last time I worried even a little bit about what I wore was when I was going to PHC and working to comply with a pretty strict dress code and an unspoken professional standard, but as soon as I graduated, all that went out the window real fast. 

I'm not really into putting a lot of effort into dressing. Clothing is not a vector in which I've ever really felt comfortable "expressing myself," and the more I have tried in the past to dress well by some indefinable standard, the more stressed and insecure I've become about it. The thing is, I really value being able to roll out of bed, dress, and be on the road in 15 minutes flat, and I prefer to be both comfortable and nondescript both at work and around town. That's just who I am, and I'm not going to put myself down about it anymore.

On top of all that, I have a problem with stores. I get really anxious with all the bright lights and visual clutter and choices, and downright panicky inside dressing rooms. It's been common for me in the past to buy something that that didn't really work just because I'd tried on three things already, and I just needed it to be over. Let me know in the comments if this happens for you too. 

A couple years ago, I thought that I had solved my store problem by using Stich Fix, which, if you don't know, is one of those subscription services that ships five pieces to you a month (or however often), chosen by a stylist who's never seen or met you. And honestly that worked fine for a while. I really enjoyed the service, and I got quite a few good pieces through it. The problem was that it lulled me into even more passivity about my wardrobe than I was already in. The result was what I just described: a wardrobe full of things I felt literally nothing about because I put exactly no effort into deciding what I wanted, going out, and choosing them over other options. 

By the time I finished my many rounds of decluttering my home and life, I had still barely touched my wardrobe. I could see the problem. I could admit that there was a problem. But I couldn't name it and I certainly didn't see my way to solving it. Enter Youtube. The Youtube algorithm is lovely. It does a pretty stellar job of giving you not just more of the content you've already expressed interest in (by liking and subscribing) but also similar content you didn't even know you needed.

Along with all the minimalism content I was enjoying, Youtube started recommending me stuff about capsule wardrobes and Project 333. If you don't know, a capsule wardrobe is an intentionally smaller version of your closet. You take out a limited number of pieces and wear only those for the next season, or whatever period of time you choose. Project 333 is minimalist capsule wardrobe challenge to take only 33 pieces out of your wardrobe (not including underwear, activewear, sleepwear, and loungewear) and only wearing those pieces (including jewelry, shoes, bags, and outerwear) for 3 months. 

The point of capsule wardrobes and Project 333 is to simplify your life and force you to be intentional about choosing pieces of clothing that mix well together. No matter how many clothes we own, we only have room in our brains to process a limited number of pieces, so we either spend a lonnng time in the morning, stressing over a unique outfit, or we accidently default to a smaller portion of our wardrobes: our favorites and our basics. People who have a love and passion for fashion tend to have a little more room in their heads for this stuff, but I am not those people, and you probably aren't either. 

The idea of a capsule wardrobe really got me thinking. I didn't like the idea of setting aside some of my clothes for months, but I did like the idea of owning a limited number of pieces and forcing myself to be intentional enough about choosing those pieces that it would work. I watched a lot of Youtube videos about what kinds of pieces people were putting into their Project 333 capsules. How many pairs of jeans? How many tops? How many shoes? What colors? Exactly how mixable do the pieces need to be? And then I made a spreadsheet. 

My spreadsheet is still in flux as I'm still in the process of determining what exactly I do and do not need, but it currently has 45 items on it (not including underwear and accessories). It's not a list of every piece I own; it's a list of every type of piece I either own, or think I should own: 2 Pairs Dark Wash Jeans, 1 Pair Black Jeans, 1 Pair Light Wash Jeans, etc. It's a comprehensive list of specific categories I need to keep filled. If a category is filled, and I like the piece that's filling it, there's no reason I should purchase a piece of the same category just because I see it in a store and it's cute. Likewise, if I go to the store looking to fill the category of "light-colored cardigan" I don't get to leave the store with a dark-colored cardigan, no matter how tempting it might be. 

Annnnnnnnd this is where I stalled out again a couple weeks ago. I had my spreadsheet and I had my wardrobe paired down to just what I needed whether I liked what was there or not, but I just. didn't. know. how to move forward. I didn't want to start shopping only to make the same mistakes all over again. I realized I didn't even know what I liked when it came to clothing. It had been so long, and I had changed so much since I'd last made completely independent, non-autopilot choices on the subject. This is when I started reading The Curated Closet by Anuschka Rees. I had initially planned to skim it for tips and tricks, but ended up reading it closely and taking notes instead.

Rees talks a lot about personal style and what it actually means to be yourself in what you wear. The book contains many practical, active exercises to figure out what you want your closet to be, what you need it to be, and how to get there, which is 100%, all of the above, exactly what I needed, and I would recommend this book to literally anyone. Even male people. It's really good. 

It helped me finally realize that my Jeans, Top, Cardigan "uniform" is totally okay and actually super efficient as long as I like it (which I do), that my color palette is lacking because I got myself in a rut, but I can totally fix that, that the ratios of my wardrobe should match the ratios of my real life (30% Relaxed-Sporty, 60% Casual-Smart Casual, and 10% Business Casual-Special Occasion), and that it is both possible and very important to walk into a store with a very, Very specific list and not compromise on it at all. 

And so much more. Rees stresses the importance of doing the research on what you personally like and what you don't like, what works on your body and what doesn't, and what your personal, unique style is in one sentence. Mine is "cozy librarian with a secret double life (presumably as a spy)." She talks about how to judge the quality of garments, how to make the pieces of your wardrobe work together efficiently and how to identify and fix laundry bottlenecks. She talks about the difference between basics, key pieces, and statement pieces, and neutral colors, main colors, and accent colors, and above all, the difference between building a wardrobe for the person you wish you were with the life you wish you had and building one for you. The actual you. The one who has to wear it. 

So as you can see, reader, I've started on a journey here that's not even a little bit done, but I am so excited. I am way more excited about my little closet than I have been for years and way more confident than I ever was about what I like to wear and why. The big thing I keep coming back to is just the desire to have less, but make it work better. I'll keep you posted.

Thanks for reading. See you next week! Don't forget to leave a comment! 

Cleaning House, Part One: Tidying Up with Marie Kondo and Minimalism

     I didn't want to use a stock photo of someone else's super-clean, chic house for this post, so here's a pic of my cat, Bean, the sentient beanie baby, formerly known as Cleopatra, formerly formerly known as "something ridiculous, like Snowball"-Jon. 

     I've been excited to write this post from the minute my Marie Kondo/Minimalism obsession began back in mid-December, but I wanted to let everything more or less play out before giving you something partial or misleading. Now that my brain has moved on to other obsessions (Knitting and Don't Starve: Shipwrecked), I can finally be reasonably sure that the changes I implemented survived the (inevitable) death of the obsession. I can honestly tell you that I made permanent changes, that those changes are working, and that my life is improved and improving as a result. 

    This whole tidying up my house and life endeavor made me realize a bunch of things about how my mind works and what a positive force my obsessive personality can be, but I'll get into that some other time. Suffice it to say that what I'm about to share with you is a string of major, all-consuming obsessions that began in mid-December and became habits and intentions that folded nicely into my regular, more stable life, toward the end of January. 

    Everything started with the Netflix show: Tidying Up with Marie Kondo. I don't even know why I started it. I don't remember thinking: I'm going to watch this and then I'm going to majorly overhaul my life. I'd just heard Marie's name around and was curious. Our house wasn't particularly cluttered by any standard. It's a small place: kitchen and living area separated only by a countertop, bathroom just large enough for a tub, and two bedrooms, one of which we've turned into a "study" or perhaps a "library" depending on which of us you ask. Storage space is scarce, particularly when it comes to closets and cabinets, and I chalked up any feeling of crowdedness or clutteredness to the smallness of the space as opposed to considering that perhaps we had some stuff we didn't exactly need. 

    Immediately after finishing the show (one season), I picked up Marie's book The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up to be sure I understood her tidying philosophy and the KonMarie method that she's developed. I also started watching YouTube videos of people using her method. I tried her laundry-folding techniques immediately, before I even started decluttering, and I highly, highly recommend that. It creates way more space in your drawers and makes everything easier to find.

    The KonMarie method isn't about what you get rid of, it's what you keep and where and how and why you keep it. It's also the manner in which you determine what you want to keep. I subscribe to this method almost 100%. Marie is really strict about the method itself but really flexible when it comes to ultimate outcome. She recognizes that people are different, and that there's no set amount of books or clothes or things that work best for everyone. If an item "sparks joy" for you, then you keep it, even if that decision doesn't make sense to anyone else. 

    If you do things Marie's way you do not, under any circumstances, tidy room by room or zone by zone. You do not spread the process out over a month. You set aside a week and tackle all of your things type by type. Clothes first, then books, then papers, then komono (all your other stuff, by category: kitchen implements, electronics, cleaning supplies, etc.), and save anything sentimental for last. 

    You take everything out of where it is and evaluate it with like things in a neutral area. This puts the inertia of getting rid of things on your side. It forces you to be intentional about what you keep. This method also ensures that you evaluate everything in the context of like things, not in the context of wherever it's been living, because that may or may not be the place where it should live.

     Everything you get rid of (trash or donate or give away or sell), you thank. I thought that was silly at first, but it just releases you from any emotions you have tied to the item and any guilt you feel in getting rid of it. It helps you let go. Getting rid of things creates space for things you've crowded out: things you love, but you aren't using because you can't find them or they're just out of sight, out of mind. And sometimes it's not just physical things you've crowded out, but more than that.

    Let me give you an example: I wasn't using my cookbooks because I was keeping them in the library instead of in the kitchen. I didn't have a bookshelf in the kitchen/living area, which was the problem. But I wanted to use my cookbooks. They used to give me a lot of joy in discovering new things to create. The same was true for my knitting supplies and patterns. It was all out of sight out of mind in a bin high up in my closet. I didn't have anywhere more accessible to keep it, so I just didn't knit. Going through my books with a fine-toothed comb and donating everything I didn't see myself rereading or sharing with someone, created space. Suddenly I had freed up a small shelf that could go live in the kitchen/living area to hold cookbooks and reference books, knitting patterns and my vase of knitting needles, putting everything right in my daily line of sight. The shelf has also become the home of the bread maker, my tea cups, and that really beautiful turquoise punch bowl we got as a wedding present. It looks really good, and now I use my cookbooks and I knit.

   Only after you're done going through all the rest of your stuff, does Marie recommend tackling your sentimental items. Of all her advice, I think this is what had the most impact on me. She says that sentimental items should absolutely have a place in your life, but that we often keep items we've categorized as "sentimental" not because they bring us joy, but because we are tied to them in some way and feel an obligation to them. These bindings clog up both our regular lives and our emotional lives. 

    I was hanging on to gifts from old friends, gifts from people who meant the world to me and would never have stopped meaning the world to me if I hadn't stopped meaning anything to them. Those items were "sentimental" but they also kept me tied to memories that made me sad. I got rid of them. I got rid of anything I was keeping just out of a sense of obligation. I got rid of a whole bunch of sentimental items that didn't really mean as much to me as I told myself they did, and it just kind of made me feel free to move on with my life. 

   So that's the KonMarie method. I went through the house twice this way. Jon did his own items, and Marie is really strict about that. You do not decide for someone else whether their stuff is important to them or not. My first pass through the house, I just got rid of the obvious. The second time, I could see my way forward to what I wanted my life to look like, and it was suddenly much more clear what didn't belong in it. I got rid of far, far more than I imagined, and suddenly there was all this space in my life to breath and think clearly and see what I wanted to do next. 

   So I dove headfirst into a rabbit hole of minimalists on YouTube. Here are a few who had a significant impact on my final rounds of decluttering and the evolution my idea of how I wanted life to proceed in the decluttered space I'd created:

Natalie Bennett

The Minimal Mom

Sarah Therese

Gabe Bult

    And here's where it gets a little more individual. I think everyone should go through the KonMarie method with their homes. I don't think everyone should be a minimalist. Also minimalism means different things to different people. I'm not talking about minimalism as an aesthetic but minimalism as a lifestyle. The big principle is that everything you own has a purpose, and it's actively fulfilling its purpose. If it's not, it doesn't get to take up space in your life. 

    Jon and I are simple people with simple needs and simple tastes, so minimalism really works for us. We were practically there already, in theory if not in practice, before I even started the declutter. Listening to these voices on YouTube really firmed up what I was already thinking: Why would I follow someone else's standard of living when I know what I like and what works for me and it's just really simple? So I gave myself permission to set different rules based on what Jon and I wanted and what we knew would work because we know ourselves. 

    The minimalism rabbit hole led to a minimal wardrobe/Project 333/capsule wardrobe/personal style obsession that I'm still actively pursuing, albeit less obsessively. That led to a whole bunch of research on casual money management. Not so much the big stuff like investing and paying off debts (even though that's important), but the little stuff like not frittering away cash on clutter, not buying produce that's going to rot in your fridge, not buying clothes you won't end up loving: the little wastes that you don't really pay attention to week to week. 

    I made spreadsheets. I made two for groceries, (food and non-food), and one for clothing. I made a list of spending rules for myself with the twin goals of saving money and keeping the home in the state I'd brought it to. I started logging every single purchase in Every Dollar, as a way of keeping myself accountable to my own rules and intentions. It's been really good. Really, really good. 

    And there's a lot I'm still working on, tweaking, and researching. The initial tidying up opened a lot of doors in my mind. I remembered a lot of intentions I'd set for my my life back in highschool that I hadn't entirely followed through on. I remembered that I'm allowed to make changes to my norms and improve what's not working. I remembered that learned helplessness is stooopid. It was a relief.

And I'm going to finish with that. Thanks for reading!

You probably noticed this post has a "Part One" in the title. That's because I'm planning:

Cleaning House, Part Two: My Minimal Wardrobe, The Curated Closet, and What I've                    Always Gotten Wrong about Clothes

Cleaning House, Part Three: My Fridge/Pantry Overhaul and THE GROCERY SPREADSHEETS

      

And also:

        

Explaining my Obsessive Personality to You and Also Me

Let me know what you think. Have you seen Tidying Up? Did you try it out? I know the next few posts won't be about books. Is that okay? Excited to see your comments as usual! Bye!