The Wagon, and My Fall

Ok, so I have fallen off the wagon a little. I replaced two sweaters, which I could sort of justify in that I wasn't really getting anything new, just replacing things which had worn out or disappeared.

Then I encountered February. You know, that month which is so grey and depressing that they should file it under "misery" in the dictionary. And I bought a pair of shoes. Red suede with a red and pink rosette. They were fun. They were spontaneous. They were on sale. They allowed me to unilaterally declare my own personal day of spring. They were so very much not in my year without stuff.

Since November, when I declared my stuff-free year, I have bought two sweaters, a pair of jeans and a pair of shoes. The sweaters and the jeans were replacement items.
It is vastly less stuff than I used to buy, and I have been much more thoughtful about my purchasing, so I guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself.

Breaking the Year Without Stuff

I am in a tough spot. I need a few items of clothing, and I don't know how to get around it.

I need the following items:

1 cream colored sweater (my old one shrunk beyond recognition) and it is a staple of my work wardrobe.

1 or 2 saturday sweaters. One of my old ones disintegrated, and another disappeared.

Now what?

Money Monster

Yesterday I attended a seminar hosted by Abacus Wealth Partners on emotional relationship to money courtesy of sustainable money manager Greg Aloia.

The speaker was Spencer Sherman, the author of "The Cure for Money Madness." His basic premise was that we all have emotional relationships with money formed early on in our childhood, and once we can let go of those emotional responses to money, we can make better choices about our financial security. The emotional feelings we have about money are, in Spencer's words, our money monster that sits on our shoulder and dictates bad advice about money and spending.

I have found that the year without stuff is as much about reexamining my emotional bond with spending as it is with the environmental impact of the stuff I was purchasing. I have discovered that spending was about self-care and distraction from boredom as much as it was about the things themselves. Taking a step back from purchasing has given me a chance to give a solid talking to to my money monster and gain clarity on how I want to be devoting my emoitional and financial resources going forward.

Off Target

Well, I went to Target tonight, and when I came home, I didn't have any bags. My husband, Seth, asked me if I bought anything, and the answer was no. I tried on some clothes, I looked at various beauty products promising more than they could possibly deliver, I examined some new blush and undereye concealer, I browsed about. I even got to the check out counter with a few things, and I just walked away. I didn't need anything.

My year without stuff generally doesn't include face soap, makeup and that sort of thing, but I decided that I had stuff I could use, and I didn't see the point in buying more. Spend less money, have less stuff, use up the stuff I already own. Don't worry, I have plenty of my old face soap, I won't stop washing my face.

The real issue was getting out of the house, having some time to myself. I have realized through the past 6 weeks without stuff that so much of shopping is about self-care. It is about using clothes and makeup and other consumer items to make me feel better about myself.

To a certain extent nice clothes that fit well and makeup and such do make us feel better because we look our best. But the constant consumerist barrage that women face through magazines, television, stores, etc. to have the newest, best, most fashionable, etc., creates a bottomless hole of things to want or "need." Where is the line between enough and too much? I don't know yet. I think this year may be too much in the other direction, but maybe I will find where the line is for me.

Blue Jean Blues

Well, yesterday I went to the mall. I had a goal--buying myself a pair of blue jeans. Now, this pair of blue jeans is out of sync with the year without stuff. The problem was, the alternative was worse. I have to have three pairs of jeans in my wardrobe for after work and weekends. Before yesterday, I had two perfectly acceptable Banana Rublic pairs and one pair, from Chip & Pepper, which was simply too low rise. Each time I wore them, I would have to yank the jeans up over my heiney. Anyone who knows me knows that there isn't much heiney to yank them up over, so they would fall back down. Uncomfortable, and a bit unseemly for a middle aged lady lawyer with a young child!

In keeping with my year without stuff, I vowed to wear them anyway. I didn't need new jeans, I could just channel Britney in her pre-commitment days and soldier on. I would be ecofriendly. I would be sustainable. I would be showing my heiney to all of Philadelphia.

So, in a fit of post-Christmas pique, I went to the mall. And all I bought was a pair of Lucky Jeans, 50% off, standard rise. I am happy with my non-heiney revealing purchase, and I didn't buy anything else (except for jeans for my baby daughter, but she grows out of hers at such an amazing rate, and she is not on the year without stuff program). What do you think? Should I have bought them?

Retail Therapy

Admittedly, it's been a few days since I last posted, and I have received some well deserved criticism for it. All in all, it has been going well. I have successfully not bought anything for myself, although I did get an expensive haircut and highlights.

It has been easier than I thought to give up shopping for myself--a bit of a relief, really, since I don't have a constant back and forth either within my own head or with my husband regarding what I bought, if I needed it, and how much it cost.

But I do miss the "me" time. I feel like I spend all of my time at work, with my family or maintaining my online presence. I feel like I need to come up with better, more productive ways to pamper myself and have some "therapy" than through the benevolent dictators at the Banana Republic. Does anyone have thoughts or suggestions for this?

PS: The Shapiro family gift exchange was worked out to a Pollyanna-type, so we each picked someone to give a gift to. I ordered from Etsy.com, the marketplace for homemade items.

Living Life "Meta"

I had a great conversation at a local cafe on Sunday with my friend Tanya about living life with an overarching philosophy, something which I call living life "meta." For me, this means that my "meta" concept is sustainability. I then try to make the decisions in my life fit the overall "meta" concept.

I have made several decisions over the past few years which align my life with my sustainable meta concept. Some decisions are big--I live in downtown Philadelphia, and walk or take public transit to work. I am developing a green building law practice, focusing exclusively on sustainable clients, and of course my year without stuff. But most decisions are small--deciding to clean with biodegradable cleaning products (Method is my fave line!), for example, or keeping a refillable water bottle at my desk.

Not all of these choices are happy or easy. I like Brazlian Keratin treatment for my hair, which is unruly and frizzy in its natural state. Unfortunately, I found out it has formaldehyde and could cause cancer. No more Keratin treatments for me. It sucks, but it doesn't fit with the meta concept.

Do you live "meta"? What's your life philosophy?