Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without. I’m very into the idea of cutting back lately. Not just in the obvious ways (buy what’s on sale! Ask around for hand-me-downs!) but also questioning what I feel like I/we NEED to buy for one reason or another.
When I was little, my mom was quite frugal. Not because my family was struggling, thankfully, but because my parents were good stewards of their money to save for what was important to them: funding our college accounts, living in a suburb with well-ranked schools, traveling to Europe every two years.
This was back in the pre-online shopping days, of course. My mom would fill out catalogue order forms once a season to buy any clothes that we needed. They only bought toys for birthdays, Christmases and as souvenirs on those big trips. If things broke or bent or were dyed a strange color in the wash we just kind of… ignored it and kept using them until it was impossible. My parents tried to buy quality stuff that lasted, whether that was clothes, kitchen equipment or home appliances. They were thoughtful consumers and set a good example for me.
I have been trying to do the same recently.
Example #1: Limiting Clothes to Seasonal Additions
I remembered earlier this year how my mom only bought clothes twice a year or so (for the warm season and the cold season). Because buying clothes used to be such a hassle, remember? You’d either have to measure yourself, size yourself, and fill out a catalogue order form to send with a check OR tramp all the way out to a store to try things on.
Buying clothes is much simpler these days and fast fashion has thrived as a result. Gross. I decided that I was only going to buy clothes twice a year, like my mom. So I spent a couple weeks in early spring ordering everything the kids and I needed for the summer. And beyond a couple of necessary additions (like little E wore holes in his new sneakers in 6 weeks, so they needed replacing), I have stuck to that and simply worn what I have.
It’s freeing, actually–to not even consider shopping for clothes, for months at a time. I love eliminating decisions from my everyday life like that. I recommend it!
Example #2: Rereading Books
I’ve been a bit of a bookworm since graduating college (understatement of the century). I could easily spend $50+ a month on e-books if given the opportunity. Which I am, simply by owning a Kindle.
I decided to limit myself to 1-2 book purchases per month and otherwise, use the library or *gasp* reread a book I already have! Surprisingly, to me at least, this has actually been fun. This month I read Courtiers that finally came off hold at the library, and I’ve re-read some of my fav minimalist/simple living e-books.
It also makes me more thoughtful about my one or two book purchases, instead of clicking through “recommended” titles and thoughtlessly choosing one that sounds good.
Example #3: Less is More
The other day I was watching little e and little A play together outside on the driveway. They have a little ride-on tractor (a birthday gift from my mom last year) and a big ride-in dump truck (a birthday gift from my dad last year) that they love to race up and down the driveway together.
As I watched them, I thought how much fun it would be if they had one of those Little Tykes ride-in cars… or maybe a toy lawn mower… or maybe another push toy for little A since he has to really bend over to push his truck fast. Maybe they would have more fun with better toys?
Then I realized that the best part of playing with my sister, when we were little, was not the couple of dolls or the doll clothes or the doll furniture we owned. It was the whole imaginary world we created for our dolls and their adventures, which was vast, complex and possible to disappear into for hours. It was the creativity we cultivated by not owning everything our hearts desired. (Thanks, Mom and Dad :P)
If there is one thing I hope to leave my kids with in life, it is just that. Creativity. A passion for artistic pursuit(s); disappearing into good books; creating their own spaces for self-reflection; being able to entertain themselves with their own minds. These feel like the rapidly disappearing hallmarks of a childhood well-lived, a childhood which sets the stage for growing into a mature, thoughtful and appreciative human being.
Francine Jay (one of my fav minimalist authors) has a quote in one of her books to the effect of, “Life occurs in the spaces between things and events.” I agree wholeheartedly.
xx Claire