Opportunity for Project 333

Starting April 1, 2013, you can take the Project 333 microcourse for only $15.

Here is the link.

Clean out your closet, define your personal style, make your life easier and more pleasant, save money, make money (by selling/donating your castoffs). Gain space and breathing room.

Damn, I've got too many clothes!

One of my goals this week is to clean out my drawers, shelves, bins and closets in order to take a hefty load of discards to Goodwill.

My reaction after three days of work: OMG! I have a LOT of clothes.

Mostly clothes I don't wear -- that's the ironic part. Clothes I used to wear but haven't included in my regular rotation for at least 18 months. Why are they still taking up space in my house and psyche?

Here's what I found:

• stockpiled white and blue button-downs, jeans, t-shirts and camisoles; all of these are doubles or triples I bought because I liked a particular style and planned ahead
• two bins of scarves and wraps I hadn't worn in a while
• two of every kind of coat or outerwear
• bins of wool sweaters in red, blue, turquoise and purple, unworn
• three pairs of boots, when I wear one
• a bin of winter hats I haven't yet worn this year

Solution: cull through everything, compare and discard. I've already gathered one big bin, the contents of which needs to be photographed and noted for tax purposes, then dropped off at my favorite Goodwill. There is at least another big bin of discards in my future.

It's easy to become overwhelmed with this kind of task. While it might be easy to throw out torn, stained and worn-out clothing ("should be," I note), it is less easy to let go of perfectly usable clothing and accessories that you (I) still like or which have good memories or that might fit if you (I) lost ten pounds, of course. It feels like throwing out money or wasting money already spent.

But one must let go of things in order to let new, positive items or energy come in. This is the basis of Morris's statement.

Plan of attack:

• Wear or toss: if I can't wear it somewhere in the next month, the piece of clothing goes.
• Toss one of the doubles: if I have two, get rid of one.
• Don't buy more: the t-shirts, the camisoles and the jeans are what I want... DON'T BUY MORE.
• Think color: with a limited palette, those things outside, no matter how pretty, can go.

More, I'm coming to grips with my own need to re-think how and when I spend on clothing. I keep talking about 20 pieces in rotation, minimalizing my wardrobe, focusing on my style... now it's time to walk the walk.

How to do it? I could go about it drawer by drawer or bin by bin, but I think I want to try a different tack. By focusing on the kind of piece, choosing to keep a limited number of such pieces, and holding to those lines. I think this will be more profitable: if I look at all my red sweaters, for example, I can discard 50% of them. That's a good initial goal, I think.

And where will they go? To Goodwill, to the dust bin, to friends and students. Fly free, little goods.

In the end, I genuinely want to get my wardrobe down by half. A wearable half, one with style full of clothes I genuinely like wearing. And that leaves me open to looking for (a very few) new, stylish pieces that are distinctive with oomph.

What a great idea!

Holy self-denial, it's Lent in my closet!

How can Lent be used in your closet, even if you are not Catholic?

Lent is not just about denial about about re-evaluation. It is, in practice, a sober period without the distractions of, say, alcohol, chemicals, parties, chocolate, caffeine or electronic/technological applications whereby one can discover new purposes or chart new paths.

So in other words Lent as a practice is great for your closet/drawers re-evaluation. For 40 days/nights one could:

1. Initiate a no-spend pledge for Lent: no clothes, accessories, cosmetics or appliances for 40 days and nights.
2. Initiate a buy one/give one pledge: only bring a new item in if you donate/discard something of equal value (no throwing out a pair of sox when you buy a cashmere sweater, for example)... although you could go the other way.
3. Initiate a decluttering practice of the closet, each drawer and the storage boxes where one keeps all one's clothes, shoes, and accessories; implement a keep/toss/repair/donate system for each site and vow to make a 50% reduction in gear based on that system... unless you're already wearing everything in your house completely and fully (sure, you are...). Spend 15-30 minutes every day on this, and you'll have a lean, mean wearable wardrobe in no time.
4. Look over your summer clothing in preparation for keeping/repairing/donating/tossing, and plan a smart and cost-effective and flattering summer wardrobe... on the basis of a 1:2 ratio (keep one/toss and donate 2)
5. Donate your unused/ill-fitting/never worn work clothing to Dress for Success (or the local equivalent), where women just moving back into the workforce can find affordable and decent office wear. Including shoes and purses.
6. Instead of going to the mall and spending (or sitting on the computer and spending) -- take a walk, ride a bike, donate your time at church or a food kitchen. Figure out how many hours you spend weekly shopping, and transfer those into your health and well-being.

Making frugal changes for 2013

Making small changes can have a big impact in the bottom line.

1. Auto-payments. Checking my accounts to see the auto-payments and decide whether they are useful or not. If not, stop paying. This is actually a great practice to take up every six months or so, because I forget about those automatic payments I signed up for and then... under-used or never used.
2. Mondays. For whatever reason, I always get the urge on Monday to stop and spend. So either not having cards or cash with me on Mondays or having one or two small things I need, works for me.
3. Taxes. Someone like me who always gets a refund should not wait to turn in a tax return... because the payback is definitely bankable. A thorough and early return means the same for a refund, rather than delayed gratification.
4. Resale. Keeping a bin of books ready. Ditto tapes, records, magazines. When it fills up, go to the store. Or take everything in once a month as a treat.
5. Emptying the credit cards out of my wallet. Simple, yes.
6. Gift cards. I have cards for coffee, for movies, for resale clothes and accessories. Have I used them? No. Go for it, because unused gift cards are basically like money sitting on your dresser.
7. Bank/credit card reward points. Trade them for free gift cards. Another simple, no-brainer. They accrue and I've been using them for Christmas gifts but I am awash in points. Use or lose: gift cards, that then can be used... etc.
8. Cash. Pay cash for groceries, gas, fancy coffee -- anything that you might normally use a debit card for.
9. Re-discover what you own. CDs, DVDs, books, clothes.
10. Barter. Trade your skills or stuff for something you need. Craigslist, for example.

Oh, so trying to make these work.

The point is not denial but minimalism: focusing and streamlining to make things work better. It is also about thoughtful application of money, which is after all simply a measure of where I have put my time and energy. That's all money is, in the end. It is not the work, but the measure of the work, the value to yourself and others of how you spend your time and how well you do what you spend your time on.

Frugality & Summer 2012, Revisited

Last week I wrote about my summer derailment re: frugality.

Okay, so I was rationalizing my over-expenditure from May through August. Well, September.

What really happened? I came home, I bought a car to replace the 20 yr. old vehicle I had been driving that was sucking down money and self-destructing simultaneously. That equaled car payment + insurance hike, starting this month. Not huge, but a significant chunk taken out of a fairly stable paycheck (meaning even annual raises have little to no effect).

I knew this was coming, but I wasn't planning for it.

A subtle but significant difference.

Here's where I am now, after a weekend of coming face-to-face with paycheck realities (where compensation for my extra class and annual raise finally kicked in).

• I'm glad I'm already slated to teach a course next summer in London.
• I'm feeling good about my book coming out this month, beyond the accomplishment.
• I've got serious reason to be frugal: when I'm stressed, I spend money as an outlet.
• Facing my spending patterns and bills helps me know what not to do.
• I have a job that means I can meet all my bills and pay off credit: I feel blessed and lucky, even while I know I've worked hard for that reality.
• I have wonderful memories and "artifacts" from my summer trip.

Giving gifts: for minimalists, connoisseurs, and those who have everything

I was al-most a complete non-shopper on Friday. Living in DFW--the Land of Happy and Endless Consumerism!--I avoided the malls, and (although I thought about it) Costco and Ikea. I ended up buying only a little something in CVS.

Nowadays, in any case, I do most of my shopping online. I buy gifts through sites like Etsy, Heifer, World Vision, and drugstore.com, not only to take advantage of getting them shipped to the recipients directly, but to stay the heck out of the malls. Really, as a person who hates crowds, why would I go shop at the banal and annoying landscapes of local malls when I can stay home and run up my credit balances in peace and quiet?

There is no compensation.

Seriously, pepper spray? Midnight openings? Trampling people? Sigh.

One of the great problems is that Dallas for all its malls and outlet malls does not boast an urban area like New York, Chicago, or Paris that includes a holiday spirit of lights, decorations, and gorgeous windows. Or even people watching. The malls do feature constant choirs, bands, and other groups, but there is little to no opportunity to simply sit and watch people go by; the only cafes (like Starbucks) are always crowded and short of seats, with people impatiently waiting by your elbow. Yikes!

So strolling from shop to store to study the decorations, to watch families or shoppers enjoy is impossible. Ugh--it is hideous. The entire notion is to buy, as quickly and thoroughly as possible, to spend and save at the same time, and to get back into the SUV and drive home. In this situation, the flaneur (or flaneuse) is wasting her time.

Now, on the other hand, I highly recommend Etsy for shopping locally or simply "small businesses" --shoppers can buy vintage or handmade, and the crafts for sale are myriad. From computer cases and decals, to jewelry to knitted scarves, mitten, hats, to handmade books and ties, to photographs, prints, and sculptures, to soap, the beautiful things about Etsy is that one buys directly from the artist, thereby supprting creativity and craftsmanship.

The other glorious thing is that if you have no idea what to buy, Etsy can help you find the right thing. Or, on the other end, you can create a list of gifts you'd like yourself (as I did this year and send it to your family and friends. Hah! No more hairdryers.

If you want to give something to a minimalist or someone who has everything (and seriously needs nothing more), try World Vision or Heifer. My father wants nothing: every year, he gets a goat, given directly to a family in African. My mother gets to sponsor a woman starting a small business. Give a goat or chickens, give a child a backpack full of school supplies, give a piece of a well for a village, sponsor a child for three months... whatever. These two organizations are legit. No matter what your notions, you can give locally or globally, gifts for families, women, girls, children, or villages, and feel great without contributing to the clutter or chaos of our Western world.

Another way to give is through Kiva, an organization where you lendmoney that is given to small entrepreneurs as start-up funding and so forth. You can put as little as $25 in on a shrot-term loan,a nd when it is paid back, loan it out again to another small business; surprisingly, that is a HUGE amount in parts of the world... and you'd just spend it on one hardcover book no one will read! Or a gift card your nephew will use for one video game.

And there's no pepper spray involved.

Tagged by Tish

Tish at A Femme d'Un Certain Age today included my 6.15 post on packing as well as my comment in her lovely blog.

I must admit: packing and thinking about packing has gotten easier since I purged my closet. It took moving and eight months of hemming and hawing, but in May when I came to pack for a 10-day trip that included a conference in Boston, a very casual visit to my family in New York, and a visit to old friends in D.C. with a day of museum-hopping, I had a well-pruned summer wardrobe that could be fitted down for each event. I'll be reliving this process for an upcoming weekend conference in Savannah this September, a four-day trip that will combine giving a paper and mingling with other academics with touring Savannah's historic and gastronomic sites.

I look forward to holding the same kind of purge for my winter-fall wardrobe, but since "fall" begins somewhere around October 20 here in the Big D, there's no rush.

It has made a huge difference not to have excess or--better word!--superfluous clothing in my closet. It also makes a difference to have everything in there ready to go in terms of fit, repairs, and cleanliness. Small, consistent progress and, in some cases, simple attention to detail make it so easy without stealing time and energy from me.

Should I say now that I am returning two pairs of sandals I ordered on-line because once I got them I realized they were both impulsive buys and superfluous? Why not? Pretty but unnecessary additions to my working wardrobe.

What did I add to my summer wardrobe in 2011?

• a vintage scarf bought on Etsy that depicts Greek tourist spots (turquoise, orange, and white)
• a brown skirt with white trim from Coldwater Creek, on sale
• a green skirt, same source, same sale
• a white Tignanello purse, bought on Ebay
• an orange canvas/brown leather tote bag, found & free 

That's it. Surprises me to say that, as usually I feel some huge gap that needs to be plugged. Not so this summer, apparently.

Frugal Tuesday: The Spiritual Headslap

The second day of my "summer" freedom.

Usually on Tuesday I provide myself with a tally of savings or losses during the past week. This alternately gives me a sense of accomplishment (moving forward) or failure (dropping back), or sets me up with an active goal to attack, like the failed Pantry Challenge. (Is it really a failure if the fridge/freezer/pantry are filled from a friend's generous gifts or the leftovers from a really great party? OK, not so much.) Looking back, I realize that, week to week, I am ahead or behind nearly equal amounts. What has become different is that I think longer and more fully about what I want to buy, eat, wear, read, and how I will address that.

Case in point: yesterday I went out to run errands. I had four, and I planned my driving in a circular manner that would take me to/through each one in a neat circle. (I love geometry -- math that I use!) Then I realized that I wanted to find a book by a favorite writer's other pseudonyms. Thought about buying it as an audiobook (if it existed that way) -- but that depends so much on the performer. Thought about buying it as an ebook (first title in series not available as ebook) or from Amazon at a discount. Ultimately decided (while I was pumping gas) to try the half-price store because my plan is, after all, to sell it back, get rid of it after I read it, to re-circulate it, and it is not possible to share ebooks or audiobooks... yet. The only way to read this book and re-use it was to buy the book and sell it back, later (or donate it). There was a Borders next to the gas station, but there was the half-price store another mile away, where I would find the paperback book (if I could) at 50% cost plus my teacher's discount. Drove there. Found several books: decided to buy one, because I'm simply checking this second line out, although I am pretty certain I'll like them. She's a good writer. And buying it at half-price made sense, in that case.

This whole thought process wouldn't have occured to me five months ago. I would simply have gone to Borders and bought at least one, maybe more, of the books. My investment yesterday? A mile's worth of gas, fifteen minutes finding and buying it, $3.35, and the three hours reading it this morning. personal satisfaction of buying mindfully. And I had a nice conversation with the guy who helped me find it, and ran into a friend I hadn't seen for a while. I got to hear about his trip to London with students and his pacemaker. All in all, a worthwhile investment.

But it gave me the proverbial head slap -- not the real kind, where someone actually hits you but the spiritual kind, where truth or reality or something smacks you around for a while, making you pay attention.

 

I've been reading a lot of blogs that focus on "frugality" or "minimalism" since October in an attempt to find a few reference points for myself as I worked to de-clutter my apartment and my life. But my goals for 2011 are more about management and change. Head slap!

 

The first thing I realized yesterday is that I need to make my own definitions of the topics under consideration. There is a huge difference between frugality, decluttering, minimalism, and emptiness. Many of the blogs I read are all about getting rid of or managing stuff -- mostly tangible material items -- whether they focus on any of the first three. Some of the people writing about de-cluttering are really writing about organization: finding better ways to manage or maintain or access their stuff, which is not the same thing. Neatly organized clutter is still clutter; it's possible that it is less disturbing to that individual, but not to me. Any more.

A neatly organized hoarder is still a hoarder, and it's only a matter of time before they are, once again, the Collyer Brothers perched among their newspaper stacks. Now incorporating all the fabulous organization/storage products I lovelovelove.

Some people writing about decluttering write about simply emptying their homes and lives of junk. Their struggle is to eliminate the junk.

Both interested me for a while. I read blogs and bought books about organizing, about decluttering, about eliminating. But it is not enough, and I finally figured out why. Head slap!

Here's how I define the terminology:

• Frugality is actively considering all the costs of something prior to commiting those resources, and trying to "spend" efficiently, be it money, time, energy, or spiritual currency.
• Decluttering is the practice of moving clutter of any kind out of my life and my space. Permanently (not in my garage or a storage space I rent or my mom's attic).
• Minimalism is keeping the "stuff" in my life to a level at which it doesn't take over and control me, my time, my future; further, that everything I do own contributes something significant, including beauty (the William Morris philosophy).

But these are all useless without further change on my part. Each of them, when practiced correctly, leaves emptiness.

And that's dangerous. That's where I see the trap ahead of me: the empty space where new "stuff" rushes in.

Because something else will: all the blogs that focus on minimalism, decluttering, or frugality -- or, rather, the good ones -- don't just talk about emptying out the basement. They complete the act of "lessening" with adding something valuable to the free space. Because there is no "empty" space, but there can be a void. If I just have a void, I'll fill it again, with stuff and distractions in order to avoid the void. If I get the distractions and stuff out of the way, the hope of anyone really practicising frugality or minimalism is that there is the time, space, and desire to do something else, something greater or just more fulfilling than the crap you're owning or doing pre-decluttering.

What good is emptying the basement if it just fills up with newer, frugal crap?

Dig a hole. Fill it up. Head slap.

So filling -- fulfillment -- is the second half of the activity... maybe the harder part. After all, we clutter and shop and fill our lives with meaningless stuff to avoid the meaningful stuff, right? We allow others' priorities to derail or distract us because our own needs are scarier than theirs, or more naked, or more confusing to other people.

But what I have noticed about minimalist blogs and frugal blogs is that while there's a lot of advice about eliminating stuff, about the personal call to declutter and detox one's 21st century life, there is much less about how to spiritually/creatively/intellectually/actively fill up the apparently giant hole within us. About either the process of refilling or the "stuff" of fulfillment.

I think this is because when one decides to declutter, it is necessary (if it is to be an effective and complete act) to distance oneself from the "stuff." To depersonalize Aunt Grace's china and childhood stuffed toys and your best friend's gag gifts before being able to donate/sell/trash the stuff. Once you start, shedding is relatively easy and can become almost a reverse compulsion. (Something I've noticed in the language of some blogs: these voices sound like those of anorexics or medieval pentients, punishing themselves for have any but the most utilitarian multi-use items and pride in few tiny material objects still left in their universe... and for how long?) 

But decluttering is only one step, which is where frugality and minimalism come in. To be successful, this has to be a change that I practice daily, for the rest of my life. Thus, it is about mindfulness and envisioning a life that I have ignored or distracted myself from wanting or creating, or something like that. Hence, my goals for 2011 -- and I didn't even know what I was doing when I defined them! Hel-lo, universe!

So now that I have dug myself into a hole, I have to fill it up. Better, this time. Damn it, that means change.

Yes, it was a spiritual head slap.

The "Stuff" Diaries: Moving, Frugality, and Minimalism

Being about 3/4 through the move from Old Apartment to New Apartment--and living day-to-day in New Apartment, I have noticed several things.

One. The "stuff" still in my old apartment is not necessary to me on a day-to-day basis.

Which means... what? First, what remains at the Old Apartment is the following: boxes of packed away things in the understairs closet, contents of bathroom cabinet I don't use daily/weekly, pantry/dishware items ditto, clothes to go to the tailor, and The Study.

Furniture and things I intend to sell on Craigslist (and have just got the ball rolling on) are there, of course, but so is stuff I thought "necessary" to my life... which isn't. I eyeball this "stuff" and think, can't I just forget it? So as I clean the apartment (looking for that deposit refund), I am also cleaning and editing what will be transported to the New Apartment. Or donated/thrown out/sold.

I'm hoping it is about a 1:1:1:1 ratio of the above.

Two. I've already transported stuff I should have edited.

How do I know? When I go to put it somewhere in the New Apartment, I have to create a spatial category for it, like "old photos" or "shoes I rarely/never wear" and store it. But not in a place where I have to get at it readly, or without one of my two stepladders (hey, I'm short!).

Note to self: if I am storing something where it won't be any trouble or reachable, it needs to be edited/donated/thrown out/sold.

Three: I have divvied up my clothes between two closets, and one is getting all the play.

What does that mean for the smaller but stuffed closet? Clothes I don't wear. Sure, there are some seasonal items that have to be stored for the return of fall/winter (starting in late October!), but again there are simply lots of things I Do Not Wear. So... why am I storing them?

I love my Express Checkout Closet with only the clothes I am wearing now, my shoes, my purses, my hats, and (to come) t-shirts and accessories. It is almost a dressing room in its orientation, where I can actually see everything circulating in a lively way. I can also see "my style," if you will, and appreciate its clarity. The older, fancier linen dresses I loved a decade ago don't fit the person using this closet, literally sure but metaphorically either--or maybe some of them do, but some of them don't. That would be a good start.

Four. Suddenly there is light and breathable space everywhere in the apartment, even with/among the many, many things I have kept and will not part with.

Not only because the apartment is bigger in square feet and with more and better situated windows, but because there is space between furniture pieces. On the shelves. On the walls.

All the more reason to edit mindfully. I don't want to crowd the apartment up again, because all of a sudden I feel like there is energy, air, breath moving through my living space. In my bedroom that means not having my sheets kept under the bed in their former plastic storage boxes... and editing the sets of sheets I keep. Having an in-house washer-dryer helps. Two flannel and two cotton sets will be enough; everything else will be donated or tossed, and another storage space will have to be found. I have already minimalized here, by the way: I don't use top sheets, only duvets or conforters, bottom sheets, and pillowcases. Ditto, towels: three sets is enough for myself and guests.

So I guess while I continue to move out of Old Apartment and into New Apartment, I will continue to mindfully edit the contents thereof.

Summer 2011, then, will include Editing Projects for the apartment, wherein I choose one room, space, or category to edit every week, with the final goal being nothing but "beautiful and useful" things in my living space.

Frugal Tuesday... and more!

Yesterday's task was to contact credit card companies and see if I could get a better rate. Remember, if you will, that in December I made these calls and no one could improve the rates?

Same thing yesterday... except it turns out I HAVE GREAT RATES... comparatively. Which means I am sad for the rest of America. But I also checked my credit rating and golly wow -- good news! Except that they are two months behind on two cards... so maybe it is even better?

This is happy news, as was my comparison on all cards, because with two rents this month, I am broke. Good to know which card to use for lowest rates... sigh.

Keep in mind:

• April pantry challenge (not taking that food with me!)
• April freezer challenge (ditto!)
• Craigslist ahoy! Furniture and appliances and computers, oh my!
• Consignment store visit ahead
• Book/record/DVD selling ahead
• Returning two pairs of Lee jeans bought online and not quite right... this week!
• Cleaning out crazy study -- shredding papers, old checks (!), tossing dusty files

Minimalism and de-cluttering make me happy.

My Favorite Things: Pandora

Right now I am listening to the Johann Sebastian Bach channel on my Pandora site. Thru my television.

"Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." "It's like living in the future..." (name that movie and TV show!)

Seriously, I love that I can identify one artist or composer, and Pandora creates a playlist for me. If I don't like an artist, I can skip or dislike, and refine my own soundtrack. Yet another way my vinyl records are more and more obsolete.

But I like Pandora. In a movement toward minimalism, Pandora allows me to eliminate vinyl, tapes, CDs, and even the iPod, if I want. Of course, one does need a/ a computer with speakers/sound or b/ a Roku player synched up to both wireless and a TV to receive the music... There is less control than an iPod, which contains all your musical holdings/desires and plays them with with a flick of the finger--because I must react to whatever Pandora serves up under my title/rubric--but I actually like that for the most part. The fun of FM radio, for example, is the choice factor of what will a particular DJ play; you can only choose the type of station (classic rock, country, classic, alternative rock) but the DJ chooses the cuts.

And filling my house with endless recordings on my Bach channel or Mozart channel or Creedence channel or French Cafe channel for a couple hours without having to do anything more than turn it on... a pleasure.

And, well, free. Sort of--after the Roku player, wireless monthly charges, and electricity charges.

My minimal dream come true...

The writing sheds of famous folk, brought to you by Apartment Therapy/ReNest:

http://www.re-nest.com/re-nest/email/famous-writers-small-writing-sheds-and-offthegrid-huts-140587

Go there and enjoy. I think my dream was Thoreau's "cabin" or closet... what you will.

Confession: Minimalism... maybe not

I may not be a minimalist.

Probably not.

While I have been joyfully shedding clutter (and will continue to do so as I move), it is clear that I will never live in a room like this.

First, I am a disaster in an all-white room. Coffee, red wine, Jack the cat.

Second, I am also dangerous to myself around sharp corners and hard surfaces.

Third, this room just feels empty and cold to me.

But I love these.

A minimalist house doesn't have to be bare or cold or empty. In fact, it shouldn't be any of those things at all. It should simply be free of the non-essentials in one's own life.

I won't get rid of my books, for example. Besides adding color and texture and personality to my rooms, I realize that many of my books carry memories for me in a way that makes them important objects in my life. They're not clutter--well, most of them. I am certain that moving will shed me of the remaining non-essentials, but still keep me in need of 5-6 bookcases. That's just who I am.

My goal for my living space--whether house, apartment, or hotel room--is a user-friendly, serene, elegant space that includes color, texture, comfort, and surprise. A place that is clean and easy to keep clean (since I am not a Virgo!) and welcoming to friends. Where I don't rattle around alone. Where my memories and affections live, too.

Minimalism: Drah-ma, Dahling!

Since last October, as you know, I have been focused on decluttering and minimalizing. This has taken focus on my small apartment, my closet, my email in-boxes, my pantry, my freezer, and my bookshelves. This material action has been a pleasure for me, since I already knew my apartment was cluttered--in 750 sq. ft., that becomes obvious pretty quickly!--but I had the feeling my life was stuck as well.

This startled and scared me, because when I was working with a life coach about five years ago, I told her that I felt like the characters in Dante's Inferno who were frozen in the slush. With my head barely above water. Am I in the same place in 2011 as I was in 2006?

I hope not!

Interestingly, when I went back to this image, I found it was the third circle of Hell where Dante encounters the gluttons (!) who are indeed stuck in freezing slush, stuck by the gluttony of their own desires. Ugh. And, to me, in the movie SE7EN, the most disturbing visual image is the glutton, forced to eat and eat and eat until he died. Again, ugh. (No pictures here!)

Rather than avarice, gluttony seems apt for the visual of myself and others gobbling up "stuff" and getting stuck, literally, in the muddy goo of ownership, especially of things I didn't really care about or use or need. The notion of letting go of those things has been liberating, as I said before, and while it has not created a naked apartment with plenty of room, it was a start.

What happens when "things" starts to include other people's detritus, like emotional drama?

Well, if I hadn't started to give away or sell books, clothes, shoes, pans, etc. (or to simply and joyfully throw them out!), I wouldn't have made room for the next realization: I need a new place to live, one that is larger, brighter, and has less drama. Less drah-ma.

Because I just realized (two months into the year!) that my greatest resolution this year is to get rid of the drama that formerly cluttered my life. By this I mean my own drah-mas, brought about by procrastination and evasion, but also the drah-ma of others.

Example: one reason I have speeded up the moving process, the major reason in fact, is the "drah-ma" of my complex. Not only my landlord's problems which culminated in a 60-minute phone call in which he spilled secrets of his life  (boy, howdy!) into my ear, but the gossipy neighbors who introduced me to "the problems" he was having by spilling the same problems into my ear at the mailbox and en route to my car "for my own good." While I appreciated their motive of looking out for me--and they were--they were also interested in passing along in gossip private information they were privy to.

I was going to move anyway, to change my living situation, but this drah-ma seriously affected my timetable.

There was a surge in this drah-ma between mid-December and the end of January, when I decided to move (and I was gone for two weeks for Xmas). My anti-drama policy made to clear to me that I had to take action. I did, and have a brand-new apartment with no drama.

Relief.

Second a-ha!: I also have been slow to realize that I work in a department that likes drah-ma, with a former chair who loved drah-ma, and that that made life not only drah-matic but uncomfortable. People who live with a chaos theory of management (former dean, former chair) like to "change things up" just to act as if that is creatively stimulating. People who thrive on gossip (neighbors, landlord) like to insert buzzing into their lives as a distraction, away from what needs to be done or their own issues. I am so guilty of this, as well!

By eliminating (or minimizing) drah-ma in 2011, I really hope not only to make my life saner and more serene, but to expand time for creativity and conscious accomplishment.

Oops, afternoon drah-ma: a colleague just stopped by to say he felt left out of the information loop and that the student project I am working on now is disorganized, which it is not, and to unload his drama and that of his students' second-hand stories.

What I realize is that drah-ma is addicting, like clutter, and can feel like hugging a tiger. You clasp it to you, it is soft and warm, and it will eat. you. up. Without remorse. Living inside a drah-ma is draining and exciting and highly emotional... it can feel so satisfying, as if you are I am really experiencing LIFE. But it is, like all clutter, just holding you me down and wasting energy. It needs to be given away, put out in the dumpster, or sold for good money (write a screenplay?). In fact, drah-ma is worse, because it leaves an ugly residue if I participate, and a kind of nasty shadow/smudge even if I don't. Walk away, Jay.

It is also about control. By creating a drah-ma and enfolding me in it, you attempt to control my emotions. My immediate response is: Hello, dumpster! Goodbye, slushy goo of gluttonous drah-ma!

Minimalism and Luxury

One of the nice things about spending the last few months focusing on decluttering, minimalising, and saving money is that I have become more aware of the "luxuries" I find essential for a positive quality of life.

For example, Jo Malone Vintage Gardenia cologne. This is the only perfume I wear now. I have always loved perfume--despite synthetic chemicals found in most scents, which fortunately don't bother me--and this is the scent I have been wearing since 2008. A spray bottle lasts about four months, costs about $50, and to me is a worthwhile expense. The scent is floral, green, and smells great on me.

It is definitely a luxury to spend $150 annually for a better smell--especially when there are lots of other, less expensive scents available. But the right perfume, to me, is the final accessory and tops off my look, no matter what I am wearing.

Another essential luxury is Lush's Happy Hippy shower/shampoo gel. It has a delicious scent of fresh grapefruit, doubles as body wash and shampoo (which makes it great for travel), and exfoliates as well as cleans. It is all-natural, too.

A large bottle costs about $20, but lasts 6 months. Compared to drugstore brands, a luxury; as a daily part of my shower routine, essential. There is a calculable difference in using this product vs. a cheaper version: the scent is first-thing-in-the-morning fresh and wake me up! At 6 am, that's... everything.

Third, luxury chocolate. I love drugstore brands and candy bar brands, but high-end chocolate, made by artisanal makers or simply the more expensive/higher cocoa content European names (like Lindt) are, yes, essential to my well-being. I can eat two squares of that kind of chocolate, for example, and be satisfied. The taste, the quality, and the afterburn is always worth the higher price tag and the smaller mouthful.

Express Checkout Wardrobe--New Thoughts

Yesterday as I sat in a very long, very slow meeting (4 hour+, people!) I decided what I needed to add to my current wardrobe for 2011:

• nude pumps either closed or peep-toe with 2" heel or higher.
• a cream sweater, heavy enough for warmth but could stand alone, not bulky (these two from Etsy)


• gray flannel trousers
• a red cashmere sweater, perhaps Eric Bompard in the next sale?
• a plain black dress, probably from TravelSmith

Each of the above fills a gap in my current wardrobe.

I've found the shoes already, and might order them over the 'net. 3" heels, peep-toes, patent leather... slightly outside my usual choices.

I've also got my eye on the red cashmere and the black dress. I'll definitely wait on the sale for the cashmere, but Bompard has a gorgeous shade of lipstick red that would be great--on sale. The dress never goes on sale, but it isn't actually a necessity; it will roundout my wardrobe and be incredibly useful, but can wait.

The trousers are the most difficult, in part because of my petite height and rounded shape. I'd like a style in rather formal trousers in a good weight wool, which emans shopping arund as I did for the "perfect" white blouse. Finding a fit that works on my body is tough. Also tough because they're winter/fall weight, and it's a bit late in the season for them.

Don't you love the Etsy sweaters above? Both appeal to me (the second one especially), but I am also thinking about trying to crochet my own. Which might be a huge mistake, but I have a rather specific idea about what I want. I don't own any sweaters that are outside the traditional styles, but I think this kind of investment would be a real shot for my rather traditional closet.

Express Checkout Experiment, or Living with a Smaller Closet

This semester thus far the continued experiment has been a bit of a bust. This week and last week, Snowpocalypse--or as my friend referred to it, Kaiser Snowze--has stomped its big snowy foot all over everything.

Thank goodness I bought the motorcycle boots!

At least they have waffled soles and don't slip 'n' slide like all myother shoes/boots. Right now, that's better than a fashion statement.

I have found myself dressing warmly, rather than stylishly, only because apparently I gave away all my heavy sweaters... thinking, hey. I live in the Big D and it is never that cold here. Foolish me! In any case, it's been jeans and house clothes, since even going out to remove garbage is slickly dangerous and cooooooollllllddddd! (I have become a wuss in the last decade!

I indeed have the 20 items carefully set, but with only one day of classes per week, I think I have to get radical. Meaning, I have to dress well even when I don't go out into the world. It is very true: when staying home, one should still dress (and act) professionally, because it does give you a leg up on feeling as if you're not simply "at home" lounging and careless. The same goes, I find, for showering, putting on makeup, and making real meals (like lunch) despite working at a desk at home. It is too easy to be sloppy and comfy, and the sacrifice is, frankly, time.

This will be a big shift for me. I tend to come home and change completely from "outside" clothes. I take off shoes, fold and hang up clothes to air out, and this does mean they last longer. I can also clean or cook easily, since putting on an apron or rubber gloves is all I have to add.

But yes, being in "inside" clothes means, too often, time slipping away. Not being focused enough.

Perhaps I won't go as far as skirts and dresses, but beyond sweats, flannels, and yoga clothes. And socks.

This weekend's plans: visiting the consignment store, finally.