Hello, and Happy New Year!
A little late to the game, but hey, it’s here - first of 2021. As I was planning for the first newsletter for the new year, I wanted it to resonate with the feeling of a brand new start. Even though I did what deems to be the most symbolic, decluttering, nothing feels anew. The state of things stay stale. (Tongue Twister Twenty-twenty). No amount of editing my closet will ever bring me a sense of meaning to the things I continue doing day in and day out.
The sense of nihilism in this period of time was fickle. Sometimes it presents itself as pointlessness in changing my life, when in the grand scheme of things life will likely to stay the same. Small changes, big changes, there is no significance. Yes, I have edited my closet with fewer items of clothing, with a tighter ensembles of outfits. But what am I doing with that new found expression of style and taste? In the wake of a closet clean-out, I uncover my own history with stuff and what kind of energy I pour into thinking about them.
Unrequited Maximalism
Like most millennials aspired to be creatives in 2010s, living in a loft apartment was on my wish list. The appeal lies somewhere between having nice things and having space for them, pairs with the rise of the nordic aesthetics with a touch of creative chaos, as presented by Selby. I aspired to bedight my living space with the most trivial of things addressed as mementoes. During the time when I was an art student, I took it to heart with collecting ephemera. Documenting my life in London in the form of wrappers, tickets, paper bags. Like a magpie, I would collect anything with a half-decent branding to adorn my nest (room). According to BBC Earth: Magpies are not thieves, merely inquisitive - Yes, I am that.
Together with my collection of knick-knacks, I moved houses every year. There were moments when I put everything into storage, and live on a suitcase worth of stuff between permanent dwellings. Without a place to settle, I find no meaning in displaying or rummaging through my collection. I drew so many conclusions from packing away items with attached feeling of bliss and being handled as mere commodity. As I was being evicted from the last flat I dwelled in in London, I took it as a sign for me to stop imagining a home for me and all my stuff in this city. I have lived through unpaid internship and unemployment, it was the back-and-forth between storage units being the final straw. I loved the city. I collected everything that reminds me of it, the crux is that I don’t feel being loved by the city.
Love and blunder
I standby the fact that ‘stuff’, or as my french classmate calls it ‘stuffs’, hold the magic to make a place feel cozy. Seeing the things I love as an extension or an expression of yourself on display brings warmth. At the time I didn’t see the meaning of embracing maximalism or coziness for that matter, not having a place of my own. Living out of a suitcase from place to place, forced me to be very selective of the ‘extension of self’ I bring along with what’s essential.
‘The essentialism goal, which is what we teach our employees and our clients, is that you have everything that’s essential to you and that you love. It’s what Marie Kondo preaches, she doesn’t necessarily need to get rid of everything either – of course, that helps – but it’s that essentialism goal, which I think is just so powerful. Knowing what you have and loving what you have.’ quoting from Jamie Hord, founder of Horderly in an episode of Oologies on the science of decluttering. Though in completely different context, I have a hard time believing what is essential and what you love always overlaps.
To love every item you own, can be a deeply troubling trope. To attach such complex emotions to things, it urges us to long for them, think about them and care for them. I am all for the latter part as a sustainable approach. Yet, I find it exhausting to think and long for things, inquiring myself whether I love them so to invest in them. It’s hard to tap into that freedom from thinking about stuff all the time, when everything you own you are suppose to ‘love’. Love is an emotion that takes our attention. To say that we have to give all that to ‘things’, it’s contradictory to what simplifying set out to do. The happiness that minimalism promises, doesn’t transpire without the inner-work on untangling our relationship with material things. I think about clothes a lot for someone who doesn’t shop for clothes often. A recent closet edit struck me with an epiphany. Most of the time, deterioration is defined by how much of something’s quality being compromised. When it comes to clothing, sometimes it’s our self-esteem that gets compromised. The way I think about clothing is attached to how I want to look. I have been keeping my closet pretty basic, bland even, to minimise the noise my fashion choices would stir. I realise I was taking clothing’s essential function very literally - to cover. Embracing essentialism, I forgo a creative outlet of mine -to style. To start loving my second skin again, I gave the over-time I spent thinking about clothes a place in my wardrobe and to experiment. I let different items of clothing do different things for me. Some are essential, I love them for their quality when I can afford them (namely my Nude Label undies). Sometimes the ‘when I can afford them’ becomes the essential part, in the love-and-essential equation. To think that my checkered pants are my love and essential, would be giving a piece of clothing too much credit for my recovered self-esteem.
Minimalism’s Lure
Perhaps the lure of minimalism is that, there is no fading into its noise, and that only a limited amount of things comes into focus. You want to make sure that the things that come into view, are meaningful. To define what’s noise and what’s not, and what’s meaningful, relies heavily on one’s own agenda. I have my doubts on that level of control over my life, in keeping it unnaturally pristine. It’s uncannily similar to a consumerist culture - brand consistency, and why would you apply that to your own life?
As I was drafting this piece, I did not start with a dichotomy between minimalistic aesthetics and minimalism as a life philosophy. To me they are a means to an end, one will lead to another, both directions. Putting this means-to-end formula to practice, discloses some interesting observations. The best example I could come up with is Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West’s Boundary-Defying Home “The one thing Kanye and I had in common was our preference for a neutral palette. I love the simplicity of the design. Everything in the outside world is so chaotic. I like to come into a place and immediately feel the calmness,” Kim says. Means - minimalistic home, to an end - feeling peaceful. Some can afford an extend of this means-to-end, a lot better than others. To count on a sanctuary manufactured to provide peace, seems to be a lot of assurance rest on material. There are connotations to the look and idea of minimalism at play here, that masks an age-old player’s rule as illustrated in this article. It shows that minimalism might not be as timely as it used to be - ‘Minimalism is also impossible to divorce from its political implications around what, and whom, it excludes. Midcentury architects like Adolf Loos have defined modernist design as in direct opposition to what he deemed uncivilised cultures, reducing objects to their least decorative.’ To be so consistent in the belief of something being justified to be erased from an aesthetic, is a very scary thought too.
Minimalism is a romanticisation to inspire. To amp up the romance, wouldn’t it be fun to believe in fate for once? Take things as they come, and not resent it when they don't will make any relationship with things ‘spicier’. Things become less like possessions, more of a chance encounter. Not treating anything as repertoire of some sort of consistency, might even change some of our believes that are hooked on a system. When all stars aligns, it makes an epic love story even with the most inanimate of objects like a single sock.
So this is the part where I share a list of links I have read, usually related to the topic above. I decided to make it an official segment called Rabbit Hole. As the name suggests, some of the links are a long read or on a bit of a tangent (I will mark them with a ‘🕰’ if that’s the case) '. I am thinking of including include 1-2 items from my TBR list, so that we can read them together and meet in a week in a comment thread for a mini discourse. Ideas on the fly, let me know if you have any suggestions!
The Closet Editing System via Allison Bornstein
I recently edited my closet with this system, and it was such a fun process. My favourite part about it is that, I get to stay true to my quirky taste for clothing and make it an everyday thing. With COVID restrictions easing up, I can maybe put these outfit into context other than walking my dog or reading in bed.A History of Why We Hoard 🕰
This brilliant essay came about the time when I had the idea of writing about minimalism. Initially I had another idea about nihilism that I want to cram into this newsletter, in the end I didn’t… because I am going to write a separate piece on it. Teaser: It has something to do with me panicking at Costco.Ologies Podcast - Oikology (DECLUTTERING) with Jamie & Filip Hord + Dr. Joe Ferrari 🎧 🕰
Someone did the science on decluttering! I had my own suss on parts of this episode as mentioned in my piece, but the real MVP of the show Dr. Ferrari debunking some decluttering myths is *chef’s kiss*This amazing poetry-zine has nothing to do with the piece, just thought I would share it.
To end on something bittersweet and totally my jam.
That’s all folks! I love receiving your comments, and would love to hear your thoughts on this newsletter. Look out for another newsletter in 2 weeks time 🤞🏻 and speak soon!
YT