I Like Nice Things
Stuff can make you happy
Seasonal Greetings from Ireland. I hope that you and yours are as well as can be. This week’s entry touches upon the seasonally-relevant topic of materialism. Enjoy!
Gentle Reader,
When I lived under the heat of the Australian sun, I went through a minimalist phase. Inspired by various minimalist writings, as well as The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, as well as Walden, I embraced the idea that it was experiences and not things that make people happy. The next step was to cast off all unnecessary material items and to embrace a more carefree existence.
Starting in my bedroom, anything which could not justify its existence was either thrown in the bin or packed into bags for the local charity shop. Most decisions were straightforward (the leather jacket I bought which never suited me, the shoes which were falling apart), yet there were a couple of categories which were hard to deal with.
These were mostly things which were not needed now (“just in case”), but might be handy in the future, for example a spare USB cable, ski equipment, plastic bags, etc. The other tricky category was things which I had bought in order to try and become a different type of person, for example, after I hurt my knee, it was really hard for me to get rid of my bicycle, because it felt like shutting down a potential Edward, and preventing that version of myself from ever actualising. In other cases, discarding something felt like a loss of agency, just as hoarders keep decades of bank statements to maintain an illusion of financial control.
After a few days of paring back, followed by a practice of not buying any new garbage, the hangers which were once packed like sardines in my wardrobe, thinned out, and I could actually see the individual jackets, jumpers, and trousers which I owned, very clearly. It felt freeing and pleasant to survey the totality of my garments without the mental overhead of wondering what other item might be lurking, half hidden, or squashed somewhere.
My desk and the room itself also were generally less cluttered, and a more peaceful place to be. All in all, it was a change for the better, and the sense of spaciousness which ramified through the uncluttered spaces also permeated through my body and mind – I was free.
Reaccumulation
Doing a clearout of your house feels great, but it requires a proactive ongoing approach afterwards. Every pair of socks you buy brings that sock drawer closer to capacity, and every gift you receive must be stowed somewhere, often requiring something else to be thrown out, if you really want to keep the equilibrium.
Eventually, especially after I returned home to Ireland, I began to accumulate stuff again. Many of these items were things which I resisted buying, because I told myself I did not need them. Sometimes, I was right, and whatever I ended up getting was, finally, thrown away again. Yet, amongst the dross which came in the door from online retailers, from Amazon, and from good old bricks and mortar, there were a few gadgets and gizmos which I found I really didn’t want to do without, even though they took up a lot of space.
My new hobbies as a thirty-something also demanded real estate, and my tools, bike equipment, juicers, air fryers, and so on, became artefacts which I simply could not do without.
Many of these things are items which I simply love. I have a water pump which I use to pump water into my pond when it’s dry. Before I bought this, when there was a hole in my pond which I had to fix, I had to drain it by hand with a bucket, an almost unutterably mundane and dispiriting exercise. It then had to be filled again, by hand. If I had a pump, this would have taken a couple of hours and two pushes of a button, rather than two days of backbreaking labour.
I have an air fryer which is very similar to an oven but…it’s different. It’s faster, it makes things crispier, it turns itself off, its more convenient, you can put it in the dishwasher. I bought a leatherman wave multi-tool which does pretty much everything. I use it in my bedroom, in the kitchen, opening packages, cutting pond liners – I even used the pliers to crimp the sheet metal of a length of guttering so that I could attach another length over it, to drain rainwater. Another beloved gadget is my Supernote, which I usually append a link to at the bottom of every article.
In the end, I guess I deviated from minimalism, but in a happy way. Much like I mentioned last week about sophrosyne, I have found a sort of balance here. On the one hand, I don’t want a house full of clutter, and I proactively work to dispense with things which no longer fill me with joy. But on the other hand, there are many things which I’m just not happy to do without, even if they take up a lot of space in my rented apartment, and will need to be dragged to my next abode.
Beauty
The part of my new outlook which brings me the most joy, however, is beautiful clothes. Much of what I threw out was clothing which was of poor quality. Paying more money doesn’t always guarantee higher quality, but I try to be extremely mindful about what I buy, now. I am willing to pay quite a lot for something which I know I will wear for a long time and, more importantly, for a garment which will bring me delight whenever I wear it.
Beautiful things are expensive, but in some cases, it’s a price I’m willing to pay. In my younger days I used to do the maths, and I would conclude that spending x amount on a jacket would be worth 20x that by the time I retired, due to compound interest, and therefore would be an exercise in futility. Now, I recognise the truth of the mathematics, but I also acknowledge that having beauty in your life, in the form of a nice jacket, a painting, expensive bedsheets, a luxury watch, whatever brings you joy.
Nice clothes make me happy. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about going to a tailor for a jacket. The good
asked me to put up a photo of it when it’s done, so I took a quick and not so glamorous picture (excuse the poor photography) before I ran into my car to drive home for Christmas. It may not be the most glitzy jacket, but the colour and fit are exactly as envisaged, and it’s nice to own something made just for me.
At Christmas, I am not really a big fan of buying gifts. Much of what we get each other is done in a rush, or out of a desire to not feel guilty, or to seem mean or cheap. As a result, a lot of garbage is exchanged which will end up in landfills.
Yet, we should all own beautiful things which bring us joy, and they don’t have to be expensive. The minimalist Edward was not correct – my vision at that time was too much of a vacuum, too much of an emptiness; too much blank space full of witholding and denial. I did not see that there was more room for richness, for things which are worth it for me, for objects which finally proved that material things can and do make me happy.
Affiliates:
My friend Paul Millerd runs the Pathless Path Community, a cozy online space where we support each other to find ways to live and work in the most authentic way possible.
I like owning things! I love shopping, especially now that I know what I like. So many of the things I own are from my hobbies, like candles or perfume. Now I'm getting more interested in body care, so I will have more lotion soon. And as I discover my sense of style, shopping for clothes will be easier and less fraught (ie I keep things until they fall apart so my wardrobe needs updating anyway).
I think minimalism is better for people with compulsive spending habits who need a framework to help them decide what they do or don't need and to keep their spaces tidy.
But when you spend thoughtfully, you don't really need minimalism.
Good shoes, a fountain pen and a notebook with great paper.
And it may be shallow, but I get a lot of pleasure from a good car.