See?
The ones in the middle are staying here with me. I just haven't gotten around to ironing them yet. Nor have I ironed the things on the right that need to be in bags to go to the consignment store along with all of the other clothes destined for re-sale. For those who fear I may wind up walking around nekkid, I promise there are still twice this many clothes in my cupboards.
As you can also see in this photograph, I hoard coat-hangers. Many will be leaving with the clothes destined for the consignment shop.
I'm fortunate to have found a consignment shop that will take my spring/summer items now and hold them until the appropriate season comes around. ReThreads of Dallas rocks my socks. (They're the ones that sold me my awesome Moschino slides with elephants on them seen in this post about How I Became an Asshole.)
I've been thinking about this whole idea of minimalism. Simplicity. Many people may think:
but Cindy, you live in an RV! How much shit can you possibly have crammed into an RV? You can't get much simpler than living in an RV, can you?
Let me show you what is in my trunk, destined for donations.
As you can see (arrows to help those who don't), I have a lot of pillows that drive Sunshine crazy. He hates having to stuff all the pillows in the pillowcases and pillow shams. He hates having to move five damned pillows just to get to the two he actually uses. Sunshine thinks that we have way too many pillows. (He might be right. Even with these five leaving the house, we have four left. We use three of them nightly. The dog has her own Mollie sized pillow, too. I will not make the dog minimize. She must choose minimalism for herself.)
I have filled the trunk of my Honda in just a few hours. Now, you still wonder just how much shit two people can pack in an RV?
I'm slowly making progress. A big part of this, for me, is going to be stopping the madness. I am going to have to start living by the golden rule of small spaces:
one thing in, one thing out
and either stop shopping, or start getting rid of one old item when I bring in one new item.
I've also made the executive decision that all of the hygiene products that I have been stockpiling won't be getting thrown away/donated/given to friends. It is too hard to find products that are citric-acid-free. The stockpile will get used. I just won't be buying any more until we are almost out of something. No more stocking up on citric-acid-free things when I find them. We have enough to last us until at least Valentine's Day 2013, if not Mothers' Day.
Somewhere along the way, I substituted the act of buying things for my dope. I rationalized it by saying "well, at least I don't find as many negative consequences associated with too many shoes/shampoos/books as I did with dope". Let me tell you, I was full of shit. My home is unmanageable. When you can't open the bathroom vanity cabinet without being hit by shampoo bottles that are crammed in there tighter than sardines in a can, then "Houston, we have a problem".
I am slowly but surely looking at the clutter. I am slowly but surely facing my fears. And I am slowly but surely letting go of "What if...?"
If only I could get my husband to see the lightbulb that went off in your head. He has substituted his addiction with upping his buying for his hobby. He says things like, "But this piece is rare." uh huh.
ReplyDeleteGood job on seeing what you were doing, Cindy.
Sunshine? Refuses to admit that he is obssessed with hunting, the getting and using of hunting gear, and finding ways and means to get more hunting gear. What hunter really NEEDS five hunting stands? I despair of ever getting him to pare down the superfluous; I can only hope to find a storage solution that is acceptable to both of us.
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