There I was… staring at myself in the mirror, trying to convince a pair of jeans to fit, and having a mild internal crisis.
Not a full meltdown. Just a quiet, “how did we get here?” moment.
Because I want to be a minimalist. I really do.
I scroll past those beautiful model homes where everything is perfectly decorated, nothing is out of place, and there isn’t a single stray T-shirt shoved in the wrong drawer. Everything looks calm. Intentional. Peaceful.
Meanwhile… I have a closet full of “maybe” clothes and at least three pairs of jeans that are holding onto hope harder than I am.
My History With “Trying to Be Minimalist”
Pre-house fire, I read “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo and went all in.
I purged.
And I did pretty well… but not quite well enough to get that clean, simplified feeling I was chasing.
Then came the house fire.
And if there is ever a moment in life that forces you to reevaluate what you actually need—it’s that.
I purged again.
And again… not quite enough.
We downsized into our barndominium, and somehow I still managed to bring more with me than I probably should have. We still have stuff in storage we obviously don’t need. We hold on to it just in case we decide to build or buy a house.
Which means the “maybe” problem isn’t just in my closet.
It’s a whole household situation.
The System That Mostly Works
I’ve been trying to stay ahead of things with a simple rule:
If I buy something new, I get rid of an old one.
It works… for the most part.
But it’s maintenance—not progress.
I don’t want to just keep up with clutter.
I want to get ahead of it.
The Closet Moment
So there I am—trying things on, making piles, negotiating with myself like:
- “This still technically fits…”
- “I might wear this if…”
- “This could work for… something…”
And then it hit me.
Like a very obvious, slightly overdue lightning bolt:
If I wouldn’t buy it today… it goes in the donation box.
That’s it.
That’s the rule.
Why This Works (At Least for Me)
Because suddenly everything got easier.
No more:
- debating
- overthinking
- emotional attachment to past versions of myself
Just one simple question:
Would I choose this today?
Not five years ago.
Not “maybe someday.”
Not “if I lose 10 pounds.”
Today.
The Weight Loss Excuse (Let’s Be Honest)
I’ve definitely held onto clothes thinking:
“Well… if I lose a little weight…”
But here’s the truth I finally admitted to myself:
If I do the work, stay consistent, and actually lose the weight…
I deserve new clothes.
Clothes that:
- fit well
- are in style
- don’t immediately age me
- and don’t come with emotional baggage from 2012
Not a “reward” of digging through old jeans like it’s a time capsule.
Minimalism… But Make It Practical
This feels like my version of the “does it spark joy” idea—but with less emotion and more clarity.
Less:
“Do I love this?”
More:
“Would I spend money on this again today?”
It’s faster.
It’s clearer.
It can apply to any area in your home.
And apparently… it fills a donation box very quickly.
Where I’m Starting
The closet.
Because it’s:
- contained
- visible
- and honestly… a little out of control
And right now?
And just like that, standing in my closet with a donation box and a pair of jeans that never stood a chance… I realized minimalism doesn’t start with a perfect home.
It starts with one honest decision at a time.
Which feels like progress.
Maybe This Is How It Starts
Not with a perfectly styled house.
Not with matching baskets and empty counters.
But with one decision at a time.
One shirt at a time.
One honest question:
Would I buy this today?
Be honest—how many things in your closet would you actually buy again today?
With love & glitter,
Valerie ✨
Feathers and Phases 