Sometimes, bizarre synchronicity makes it so that the wonderful, lovely KISS community asks exactly what I've been thinking about, so I've no choice but to write.
I've long been an admirer of minimalism, but in a very faraway, vague sense. sort of like, I love that, but I could never do that. I like minimalist interior aesthetic, for instance, but there was a long time in my life when minimalism seemed tied with privation of some sort or another. Why deprive yourself, I thought?
As I've grown older, I've come to see, though, that's asking the wrong question. You're not depriving yourself at all, you're sticking to what's essential. You're orienting yourself away from the material, and into the spiritual. That's wealth untold, paradoxically.
I left my wardrobe door ajar the other day by accident, and when I looked over, it dawned on me there's all these pretty clothes in there that I haven't worn, and probably won't wear this season. I've noticed a change in myself, in that regard, and it wasn't necessarily a conscious one. I didn't set out to ditch stuff.
When I was living on the road, I looked forward to coming home, to not living out of one bag, for a change. I joked about alternating the same three shirts again and again, yet now that I'm here, that's all I do. I think I've worn the same four tops ever since summer started, with the rest of the things I used to like just hanging there, limp. It's not even that I don't like my stuff, it's just that I see no use for them.
That's my kimono peeking out. Actually, it's a jinbei, which is a sort of summery two-piece kimono. My aunt got me that a few birthdays back. It was such a bizarre, random gift. I thought, well here's one thing that's spend a long time gathering dust. It's possibly my single most treasured clothing thingy. It's very practical. Would definitely be among the five most needed things in any long-term journey.
My impression of stores has also changed. Like most kids, I used to find it fun, going shopping with my friends, getting new dresses and things that'd look cute. Now, I avoid it like the plague. Last few times I ventured into a shopping mall, it was to get some art supplies. Now, when a friend tells me about the things they're buying, they feel so meaningless.
It's the same with jewellery. I used to love all that stuff, amassing cutesy bracelets and things. Again, I think I've worn the same three bracelets for the past year at least.
But I do love them. That's the other thing, I've grown to appreciate these fewer things a lot more. It's incomprehensible to me that I might exchange my tattered old sandals for new, elegant ones. Sure, they're torn and raggedy but they work. It's just a visuals thing, and I'm not bothered by it. And they have history. They've been with me countless places. Same goes for the three-four tops, and the pair of shorts, and everything. I don't see why I should change them if they still work, nor do I want to.
Maybe it's nothing to do with minimalism. Maybe it's growing up. Maybe it's both, I don't know.
To be fair, I've also been less interested in appearance in general. Not in a slovenly way, I do still love to keep myself clean, and cared for and all that. But in a much simpler way. For a good few years, I worked with quite a few skincare and beauty blogs. I adored it. It was my passion, my hobby. I loved writing about this or that product or ten hair masks to try or all that.
Now, I have this natural facial oil I bought in Glasgow, and that's about it. That's where my list of products begins and ends. Yesterday, I wanted to do my make-up a bit, as we were going to a Viking-y show. Going through my make-up, I felt very confused. I didn't know where anything was. Was there a blacker black in a different box? No clue. It's been, to be fair, a long time since I've needed them, other than the occasional basic mascara dab.
Now, as I slowly gear up for another trip (hopefully), I'm more relaxed about hauling stuff. I look on all the things I took with me the first time, and I go 'Oh, but I don't really need that'. I haven't decided yet, but I'm guessing it'll be somewhere warm, where I can make do with three tank tops.
I don't really need more.
Am I a minimalist? I don't know. Didn't set out to be. So this week, the KISS community wanted to know about our earliest minimalism memories. Well, this is it. Now. I used to like stuff. Material stuff, I mean. Now, I don't really remember when that stopped. So maybe this memory is still playing out.
