The Time Has Come to Talk of Many Things

Thing.

Or Things.

When you start repeating a word over and over, it starts to become, ironically, just a "thing."

Several "things" (wait, let's use another word here)...several "events" have occurred in the last few weeks leading me to finally following THROUGH on my disastrous mismanagement of things.

You see, for years (and years, and years) I've talked about what I want. I've thought about what I want. I've tried doing what I want.

However, the lull of comfort, the lull of social expectations, the lull of pretty and copious felt more powerful than what a truly wanted.

Within me lives the dichotomous girl who:

• Absolutely adores fashion, aesthetics, frilly and definitely frivolous (housewares and clothes in particular).

AND

• Swoons over minimalist, clean and elegant style, décor and environments.

The result is a blending, or bleeding, of order running into chaos. All due to my mismanagement of things.

Case in point, our living room generally stays this way:

Yes, even with a toddler.

HOWEVER... in many other parts of the house, this is what one finds:

 

Pretty disturbing, with nothing being pretty about these disasters.

These scenes are an ode to overconsumption, to a false perception of "choices." My daily reality for "choosing" an outfit usually results in me sifting through the second choice options, or seeking out my favorite items in the dirty clothes hamper and throwing said item in the wash. I am of course, digging through even more items of clothing to find my favorites pieces. Why have I created a proverbial haystack of clothes? Do I enjoy the search?

As much as I hate to admit this, I have actually "lost clothes" in my home. Between the five bins of dirty laundry, the dryer, the overloaded folding table and more than 24' of hanging space for clothes, I still seek out just a handful of items which:

• fit beautifully
• feel comfortable
• receive the most complements

And yet, I fill. I buy. I consume. I justify. I commiserate with other fashion-aholics.

In an attempt to curb the swell, I have even set rules: such as organic cotton or bamboo, only made in the US, only purchased at the thrift store...

I even agonize over the decision to keep items (tags remaining on garments until they absolutely must be washed before wear).

All for the perception of choice.

It isn't just clothing, this perception of choice and freedom extends to other areas in our life as well.

The time is now, to not talk of many things, but to be begin the adventure of my Intendance of Things.