The Freedom of Fewer Choices

How much do I love shopping at Trader Joe's? Sooooo much! There are too many reasons to list. Here are the top 3:

1. Every single time I've been there with Pia, one of the TJs "crew" has offered to help me take my groceries to the car and they've loaded up the trunk and whisked away my shopping cart before I've even gotten my wiggly babe into her car seat.

2. Black bean and cheese tacquitos. Chocolate honey mints. Reduced Guilt Chunky Guacamole.

3. A break from the Decision Fatigue of every other grocery store in town. When I want to buy, say, cereal, there are roughly a dozen options from which to choose. Pasta sauce? Eight options. Pickles? Spears, slices, or whole. Ketchup? One option: ketchup. I can be in and out of TJs with (usually, almost) everything I need for the week in 30 minutes, AND stick to a list and budget.

Bonus: The store is not jam-packed with displays and aisles. It feels open, navigable, and easy. You could fit the entire store into the Halloween Candy section of Target.

Does Trader Joe's have everything I could ever need for a recipe? No. But by narrowing our ingredient options, we've actually gotten more creative in the kitchen, and we are able to go to Whole Paycheck less frequently, which saves us a whole lot of money. And time. Shopping at TJs is efficient, cost-effective, and delicious.

I am pining for the day that our home will be conscientiously curated to contain only those Useful, Beautiful things that Spark Joy, like the Joy that is sparked by finding Gluten Free Candy Cane Joe Joes.

Like my favorite grocery store, I've found that my house is much tidier, more efficient, and happier to live in when I have fewer options. This is and has been an ongoing process, but every little step I have taken in the direction of Fewer has been rewarding so far.

Exhibit A:

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to apply the now-famous Marie Kondo lessons of Tidying Up to my closet. I haven't actually read her book (who has time to read entire books during baby naps??), but I have read a couple of reviews and articles about her New York Times bestseller, and concluded that I had gleaned enough to take a stab at purging my closet of anything that didn't Spark Joy.

I took every item of clothing out of my closet, laid them all on my bed, then picked each item up and held it in my hands before deciding its fate. I made four piles:

• Sparks Joy AND it currently fits!
• Sparks Joy but doesn't fit my new, plush, post-baby body
• No Joy here, but I've barely worn it, so I'll try to consign it
• No Joy, but it's in good shape, so I'll donate it

No surprise, most of what Sparked Joy and Fits consisted of cardigans and a couple of forgiving dresses and skirts. I'm still about 15 pounds from my pre-baby weight, so I'm going to remain hopeful that some of those Joy-sparking clothes with buttons and darts and zippers will fit again. I didn't part with them; I put them in a plastic tub in the storage closet. Here's what was left:

Disregard the upper-right piles - they are Les's pants!

I've been operating from this wardrobe of roughly 30 items + basics like tank tops, t-shirts, leggings, etc, for three weeks now, and I love it. When I rush to the closet in the morning to get ready for work, I know that everything in front of me fits, flatters (reasonably well), and makes me happy when I wear it. Soon I will add the winter sweaters that spark joy, but those are still packed away for now.

Gone are the sentimental items, the stash of overly-fussy wedding guest dresses from the season of my life when I attended 10 weddings every summer, and anything that I really wanted to like and wear but never or very rarely did. As I hear Kondo's book suggests, I thanked the items I discarded for their service or for their part in a previous season of my life, and stacked them neatly for re-homing.

Last year, I had a 40-Item Wardrobe for a season, and that was totally painless. Maternity clothes created their own capsule-wardrobe-by-default, and I did just fine for more than 6 months. I know I can live and work and play and go to church with a limited but versatile mix of clothes, but I still want More and New and Better and Different all the time. That's the part I can't quite seem to wrangle. And I do not promise that I will never buy any more clothes. No. But anything new must be versatile enough that I can wear it for at least two out of three main fashion venues: Regular Life, Work, Church. And, thanks to Ms. Kondo, it'll have to Spark Joy as well.

My 40-Hanger Winter Closet

Our house is mid-level chaos these days. We spent Les's winter break unpacking and situating and tackling projects. Now that we have everything unpacked, we're shin deep in piles of things we haven't figured out a place for yet. These piles are totally stressing me out - mentally and emotionally. Sometimes physically. (I'm looking at you, box of random formerly-hall-closet-contents now just box-in-the-middle-of-the-hall on which I keep stubbing my toe).

Everyone has stuff that they don't use that often, and it's hard to know what to toss and what to keep. No one wants to end up in the position of re-buying something you just donated or tossed. But the fact remains that we have more belongings than we actually need, so some of them are going to be re-homed. It has been overwhelming to figure out where exactly to start.

I've been stewing about all this for a couple of weeks, and apparently I'm not the only one. My dear sister and my dear Jackie are both in the midst of some Epic Closet Simplification. They inspired me to take a hard look at my clothing stash. The closet is as good a place to start as any, right?

I took one look at my closet, and then re-read this blog post from Living Well, Spending Less. I had read her 40 Hanger Closet post last year, but I wasn't quite ready to commit. Today, it turns out, was the day.

Behold, My 40 Hanger Winter Closet

• 9 sweaters (including one not pictured because it is on the drying rack downstairs)
• 7 cardigans
• 1 printed hoodie sweatshirt (which I am wearing right now)
• 3 skirts
• 8 tops
• 6 dresses
• 2 pairs of pants - one corduroy and one black denim
• 4 pairs of jeans

Whoa. I have a LOT of navy, gray, and camel-colored clothes. 

I chose my favorite, best-quality, best-fitting, most versatile pieces and decided that I would attempt to get through the end of March by wearing these and only these pieces. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be to choose. In fact, it was kind of a no-brainer. If I'm honest with myself, I wear the same things over and over and over again all winter. Especially sweaters. And guess what? If you limit yourself to the items that you like the best and look the best, I suspect it will be even easier to get dressed in the morning.

What's not included:

• Underthings
• Leggings/tights
• shoes & bags
• layering t-shirts
• workout / yoga clothes
• hooded sweatshirts that you wear around the house for days on end because it is in the negative double digits outside.
• Formal wear. We're going to 2 weddings in February, so I'll need to pull out the glam for those. 

My version of the 40 Hanger Wardrobe is actually a mishmash of the blog mentioned above and other minimalism writings that encourage a strictly seasonal, minimalist wardrobe. So I'll change up the 40 items when spring rolls around, which is why I haven't actually discarded any of my other clothes. 

I am actually pretty psyched about a truly seasonal wardrobe. I have a few items that will get a workout all year-round, but I'm eager to swap those sweaters for bright dresses in a few months. Let's face it, I am not the best dressed gal on the block, and that's OK with me. But if this simple discipline of a seasonal wardrobe helps me focus on the best I already have and look the best I can, then Yay For Me.

Eating mealy tomatoes in the middle of winter just feels "off", right? Well, so does seeing a 30-something year old woman trying to rock a sundress with a lemon yellow cardigan in January. No more.

When A Good Deal isn't a Great Buy - Choosing Stuff That Will Last

It's Boot Season again - Hooray! That means I get to bust out my mom's circa 1975 Frye Boots. Believe it or not, boots are hard to photograph in an interesting way. But these boots ROCK. And I get complements on them every time I wear them. They are creeping up on 40 years old, and they still look awesome. Mom actually had TWO pairs of Frye boots in her closet, which seemed Way Way Over the Top for my mom. My Mom didn't spend lots (any) cash on herself by the time she was my mom. So knowing what I know about how much Frye boots cost now, I'm sure these were a save-up purchase. And judging by the re-soled wear, she wore them a lot. And here they are, on my feet, rocking my jeggings and Dress Over Pants concoction in 2012. So an excellent cost-per-wear investment. Plus, I get to wear my mom's boots. The best hand-me-down ever.


Most of my clothes are cheap. Seriously cheap. Not just "Bought on J Crew clearance", although there are some of those. Cheap like "bought from Target/Old Navy/TJ Maxx and barely make it through one or two seasons before I start eyeing them with scissors to repurpose their raggy fabric". I own maybe 3 or 4 items that I could consider "investment" purchases. Clothes that I love and wear regularly, cost a bit more, and are holding up really well. Most of my stuff, however, has little to commend it into the "Excellent Stewardship of Resources!" category. Most are items that I just thought were cute and within my budget and ended up in the cart.

I'm starting to see improvements in this area. Maybe it's getting older. It's much easier to stick my fingers in my ears and sing LALALALALALAAAA over the siren song of trendy clothes. I also have a job where jeans and a t-shirt are just about requisite 3 out of 5 days a week.

Obviously we all need clothes to wear, and I'm not advocating for sackcloth and ashes. I also do not think that it is an ethical affront to look cute. I could actually use some more lovely in my life. I am usually loathe to spend big money on clothes, but I'm beginning to realize that disposable trends aren't as much fun as they used to be. The standard fashion mag refrain is to buy "the essential 10" (or 15, or 20) items in classic, flattering cuts and then care for them meticulously so they last for years. I'm down with that, but how do I start? Buy one piece per year for the next ten years? That's not a terrible idea, actually. As least I can be classically fashionable by the time I'm 45.

So what do I do with all the other stuff? And how many items of clothes do I really need? "Purge the Closet and Dresser" has been on my To-Do list for several weeks now. I was dreading it at first, but then I read this post  from Jamie The Very Worst Missionary and I got some mojo going for PURGE THE JUNK! I'm interested to see what is left after I donate anything that doesn't fit, doesn't flatter, or is just plain ready to be demoted to "fabric".

Ok, really this whole post has been my round-about way of trying to process whether or not I should consider doing something I swore several years ago that I would NEVER do: Should I FINALLY buy a classic, well-made leather  bag that I will just use and use and use and use rather then the "please please make it one more season" pleather or canvas bags that I keep burning through like birthday candles? I love me some purses. I used to have a lot more energy for wearing them like accessories, but the reality is that I pretty much use the same bag every day. Until it crumbles and shreds into sad little vinyl chunks. I'm researching recycled leather bag companies, which I feel sort of OK about, but I just cannot bring myself to purchase new, fresh-off-the-cow leather. Even though those Frye boots are a testament to the longevity of a well-made and virtually timeless slab of hide.

I have leather shoes, even other leather boots. And I do own a couple of small leather purses that have been gifted to me over the years. But now I struggle to put my cash into leather, or to wear it as if to say "Yeah! I'm totally cool with this!".

So if you have a vintage leather bag that you never use, or a suggestion for a great place to get some repurposed leather goods, or can help me with this clash of values (animal-free vs. durability and fewer disposable faux-leather accessories), shoot me a note. I'm gonna head over to Etsy and Ebay and see what I can find.

Say it Ain't So, Anthro!

The Good Guide tweeted this link today that ranks 182 apparel brands based on their "Good Guide" metrics of social, environmental, and health impact. Their overview page says this about the ratings:

Our highest rated apparel brands work closely with their supply chains to improve working conditions and minimize environmental impacts. The best brands disclose the identity of their suppliers, audit how they perform on labor issues and make public the steps they take to respond to violations. They also design their products using life cycle principles and educate consumers about how to reduce impacts. Our lowest rated apparel brands are made by companies that are not focused on improving working conditions or reducing environmental impacts across their supply chain.

Thank you, Good Guide, for yet again doing the research that I was way too lazy to conduct. This ranking list has some good news, and some bad news.

Good news! - You do not have to spend a zillion dollars to buy more-responsible clothing! In fact, H&M and Old Navy ranked higher on their rating scale than dear old J.Crew.

Bad News! - Spending some extra cashola for "less cheap" clothes because you assume that only the bargain brands cut corners is a bad idea. Anthropology's spendy boho chic brand ranks NEAR THE BOTTOM of the Good Guide ratings, despite being the most expensive brand I've ever convinced myself to spend money on. Worst offender on their list? Anything by Ralph Lauren. Booooooooo expensive designers! And shame on you!

Now, I'm all for buying things second hand, making your own stuff, or swapping with friends (Co-conspirator Jackie hosted a neighborhood clothing swap this weekend that was a super success!), but sometimes you just need/want a new dress. Or shoes. Or 4th gray sweater. This list is a helpful tool in making choosier choices.

Gulp. Is it time to unsubscribe from JCrew and Anthro email lists?
Or maybe it's just time to bust out the sewing machine and use their emails as inspiration, because fall fashion is tormenting me from catalogs and shop windows everywhere I look.