A Work in Progress

In every minimalist’s life, there is an area where they are vulnerable to denial; an area where minimizing a specific object isn’t just hard, but horrifying. I am a victim of this. Or rather, maybe I am not so much a victim as I am a participant in my justification. Minimalists may be organized, decluttered, and thoroughly downsized, but there’s always one area that is heartbreaking to maintain. For me, it’s shoes. Shoes are my kryptonite. And if I’m being extra transparent, it’s also jackets and belts. But, my biggest love (when it comes to my closet) is shoes. I counted my shoes once (several years ago) and I think it was 65. Which to some, may be a lot. To others, it may be just a drop in the bucket. Regardless, I had all of these amazing shoes; shoes I swore I loved – all of them.  But here’s the kicker about my kicks: I only wore a handful of them, probably a dozen or less,  every year. Out of 60, I wore 12 regularly. (There were a few that I wore once or twice a year and the res

There's a viral minimal lifestyle post I've read a couple of times that I keep seeing reposted among the simple living community and it's called "What if All I Want is a Mediocre Life?"   Read it if you have a chance. It is well-written and full of validating words that, for me, explained exactly what I was feeling about my lifestyle. What if I'm not the best of the best? What if I love living my simple life? Am I a bad person for not wanting to look like I'm perfect or the way this “perfection” is portrayed on social media? My biggest hangup in this article though is the word mediocre. According to Dictionary.com, mediocre means "of only ordinary or moderate quality; neither good nor bad; barely adequate" and the second meaning is "not satisfactory; poor; inferior."  Hold on a second... barely adequate? Poor and inferior? Since when have I ever wanted to write something that was barely adequate? Never. Since when was I interested in l

Have you ever read a book that completely enthralled you? You immediately liked the characters, (even the bad guys) and the storyline hooked you from the start. You felt like you were one with the author, seeing all the told action and even the untold action, as you deftly read between the lines. But once the story is over, you find out that the narrator was lying to you; telling you one thing, while a different thing was the truth.  When this happens, I feel both disappointed and challenged. This type of story - when we think the story's details are one thing but are something else entirely - has an untrustworthy narrator. This narrator is called an unreliable narrator. An unreliable narrator is a deliberately deceptive storyteller who cannot be trusted; someone who says untruthful things with the intent to lie and entrap (in this case, me, the gullible reader.)  I mostly feel bamboozled when I've discovered an author did this.  On the one hand, it makes me rethink the entire

Yesterday, I did nothing but go to church, read, watch a little TV, walk with my youngest son, and relax. Yesterday was Sunday, which means it's the one day a week I don't work, think about work (that's a hard one), or stress over work. But, it wasn't always this way for me, which is why I still feel a little restless - and guilty - when Sundays roll around. I work from home. Everything I do is done from my home office. From writing to selling vintage online , my work surrounds me, every day. And while a huge chunk of America works from home these days, the difference is my work is self-created; these businesses are my own. I don't work for someone else. Which means I'm never not thinking about work. It's with me continually, even when I don't want to think about it. For years, I would sort of pretend Sunday was my day off, but then I'd fire up the computer to fill an order or do some writing that I thought couldn't be put off. Those "small

Ten years ago, I didn’t know what fast fashion or slow fashion was. Though I’ve been wearing vintage clothing for decades, and selling it for more than thirteen years, I didn’t know slow fashion was a thing. I had no clue there was even a movement behind the idea: I just knew I liked slow fashion - vintage and handmade items - and over the last decade, shifted my entire mindset (and closet) to become a slow fashion lover for good. What is slow fashion? Well, it’s the opposite of fast fashion. The last thirty years have given rise to fast fashion: cheaper materials, faster made, quickly sold, trendy designs – and this cycle repeats itself to infinity. Think Zara, Shein, and Forever 21 with the intent of pieces to be worn a few times, tossed, and the wearer (aka the consumer) buys more. Slow fashion is better materials, slower made, slowly sold, with classic designs. Think vintage made, quality made, or hand made with the intent for clothing pieces to last decades… and the wearer keeps

Reading is like breathing to me. I can't live without it and I certainly wouldn't want to go without it. Reading has the power to transform, transport, enlighten, and educate.   The Washington Post came out with a little article last week about reading and how little of it we Americans partake. As if it was something we were trying to avoid. Why is this? The article noted that 46% of most Americans don't read even a single book a year (This is either an actual book or an ebook like on a Kindle .) And that only 5% read one book a year.  A year. And if you've read two, then you're doing better than half of us. (This includes audiobooks which I wouldn't have included, but so many people do this while commuting.) What in the world has happened to us? I suppose the influx of these little gadgets in our hands (smartphones) has made a difference. We "read" a lot of social media posts (which isn't reading, it's entertainment) and bits and bobbles of &#

Living a slow life is my daily goal.  But wow, is that a hard thing to do. The biggest factor preventing me from living this way is...  me . I am my own worst enemy. While I desire to slow down, and do things that bring value to my world (and not what the world says is valuable), actually doing this is like fighting a fight I never wanted to be a part of.  We live in a "fast" world, where what we buy is delivered to us within hours if we want (Amazon), or we can find answers to questions in seconds (Google), or where news and social media dominate our lives because it's in our faces, on our phones and everywhere we turn. Our world doesn't cater to a slower pace of life. It's a fast, now-now-now, fast fashion, buy more, do more, and say more place. We're all living in a 24-hour casino, calling it "normal," and wondering why we suffer.  To carve out the slow life I want - a life that centers more on only doing what I love, being with people I love, and

I sell a lot of vintage clothing, and because of that - and because this "vintage selling" has taken place over the last thirteen years - I own a lot of various vintage pieces, for various parts of my wardrobe as well. This means I've learned how to wear vintage, what vintage to wear, without these key pieces making you look like you're in a costume. Trust me, that's one of the biggest issues folks fear when they buy vintage. There are a few who can get away with it - they can do the entire 1940s outfit because that's the persona they want to emit - but most people who buy vintage from me, and most of the vintage I wear, go with modern pieces I already have, or pieces my customers already have in their closet. So, where do you begin? How do you add a small but amazing punch to your wardrobe without knowing where to start? How do you wear vintage with a modern wardrobe? Slow fashion is about buying quality clothing that transcends trends. Vintage clothing fi