Intro: One woman's semi-public blog about getting rid of stuff, three things at a time. Which is about as much as she can handle at a time without wondering why she spent good money on this junk in the first place. Though she still wonders about it.
With every little bit of control in her surroundings comes a bit of control over her diet and fitness.
Okay, so far so good. It's been a little over a month and progress has been made! The top of my dresser is clear as well as a few spots here and there in the public areas of the house. Once in a while I have to hiss, "Stay away from Mommy's clean spots," and this is met with about as much hilarity as you'd imagine, coming from once-tiny young people whose idea of a good time has never once included cleaning products or organizing storage containers. THEIR idea of cleaning is something like, "I filled 10 trash bags with stuff. I need jeans. Can we go to the mall?"
Okay, so the most recent best shopping time I've had with my kids was going out on Thanksgiving at midnight to an outlet mall about an hour from home (I worked the next day at 2pm -- a novelty for one who used to have to work at 6am the day after Thanksgiving). I was impressed at their restraint - instead of telling them they could have this many shirts or that many pair of pants, I learned a long time ago to give them a budget. If they wanted to spend the entire amount on one fantastic jacket, so be it. If they were careful, used coupons and watched for sales, they could make a haul. They wound up somewhere in between.
Other than that, it's probably best we don't shop together. I have a hard time saying no. It's not good. Like the time my daughter decided first to shut me out of prom dress shopping with her, then added insult by texting me a picture of herself in a gown-oh-my-god-mom-its-so-perf
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzze??? Thank you SO MUCH Bloomingdales' saleswomen, for taking the picture for her.
Of course I caved. And I didn't even go to my own prom. I spent less on my OWN WEDDING DRESS.
I have always been more of a "lipstick effect" luxury buyer. As you may know, in tough economic times, some people downsize their purchasing from buying, say... luxury mink coats... to luxury lipstick. Feh: I say here and now that I've received more compliments on Maybelline lipstick than my Chanel... but I will never never never EVER buy cheap eyeshadow. I complimented a customer today on her dense cloud of perfume because I wanted to know what it was. You know how scent can be the most powerful inducer of memories? It tripped my trigger: smelled like the cheap Chantilly talcum powder I doused myself with when I was 12. But god bless her, she glowed as she informed me it was the very latest from Italy. "I was going to say it smelled very sophisticated, very European," I said.
(No offense to anyone from Europe. I'm just trying to get through another work day.)
I digress. My real lipstick effect luxury will always be....
1. Pens. Hey, when I brought the last batch of pens to work it made people so happy I did it again. The blinged-out pink pen went immediately. The pile IN the box is what I'm keeping. It's a sickness, I know. If YOU spotted the gold Limited G2 in the middle of the pile and did a little involuntary "ooo" sound, YOU have a sickness. Not as bad as me, as I will not allow the pen to leave the house. Why? It's a G2 with a Cross insert. Look up the Instructable for the How-To. Writes like heaven.
People at work are already claiming pens as their own. A few of you have replied that you, too, are pen devotees. I feel so close to you.
2. Getting back to my shopping intro: pants. I don't have a photo of this, sorry. I buy cheap pants at Walmart because they get destroyed at work, which is fine, because I am slowly working my way down in sizes: when I started work I was a size 20 and now I'm a 16. The zipper ripped and...
A. I thought about repairing it. If you've ever replaced a zipper you know I was better off discarding this $16 pair of pants than fixing them (unless you're good at it. I've only done it twice).
B. I used to thing this was a fat person's problem - ripping through pants. I also used to think the wiggle-jump-wiggle-dance used to put on pantyhose was also a fat person's problem. Then I met a woman who is a size 00 (yes, a double ZERO) and she related how she hates to squirm into pantyhose too and HOW IT MAKES HER FEEL SO FAT. (!!!)
I now work with thin people who tear through clothes like they're made of tissue, so this is not a "fat" issue.
In either case, I refuse to replace them. I have other pants that fit. The next pair of pants I buy will be in a smaller size. Unless I rip through all of them beforehand.
Result? Stuffed in my trash can.
3. TIVO. This was tough. Someone gave me a TIVO. Um. Um. I held on to it for over two years. I love gadgets. I love technology. I don't love TIVO. I missed the window - and I didn't want to pay for the service. I watch almost everything I'm interested in on my laptop or On Demand. For the love of Jack LaLanne and Bob Harper, I don't need MORE TV. I have never used the TIVO. I faked it. Faking it is usually not good. I told the giver I loved it and was using it. I'm pretty sure they're not reading this.
Result? In the box in the garage, waiting for the township to accept hazardous waste/electronics, etc.
"Junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. No sales talk necessary. The client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy." ~ William S. Burroughs