These Shirts Don't Bring Me Joy; or, Frugality versus Minimalism

We've been in Spain for almost three months now, and we've been in a house for about a month---a near barren house with only the very essentials, and loaner furniture that is what I like to describe as "waiting room chic."

I can put some 5 year old magazines and religious pamphlets out and people will feel right at home at the doctor's office!

The doctor is OUT, so have a seat. . .
Yes, it is as uncomfortable as it looks.

Did we jump the gun on getting the house? 

Yes. And no. 

When we got here, our paperwork said our household goods would be here no later than September 9. By late August, we found a place that we really liked that has a wonderful landlord, so we decided to go for it. After all, what's a couple of weeks on loaner furniture? 

We packed out on June 9. As of today, it has been (drum roll) 129 days since we last saw our things. We did not find out until after picking out this house that September 9 really means late October or early November in the parlance of this particular move, so oops. And dang. Also,  I really thought I was going to be minimalist and all Marie Kondo about this move and enjoy living with less and loving only the things I carefully and so lovingly chose to bring.  

If you have been on an isolated island the last few years (yes, GTMO counts) or just don't really pay attention to trends in the news. Marie Kondo wrote a book called the life-changing magic of tidying up (yes---no caps; no---I don't know why) and she really gets into how to organize your house, your things, your life. In the process, you start to live as a minimalist, and only have the things around you that you really love and use. In fact, you have to hold each item as ask if it sparks joy. If not, toss it. She says things like the following: 

Some of you are probably saying, "Wow, that's some new age crap," and like all advice I've even been given, I listen to what I want to hear and do what I want to do (sorry, Mom and Dad).  Basically I am selectively using the KonMari method to de-clutter my mess (that's my stuff + my life). 

I folded my clothes according to her method and went through a nice list room by room of what I wanted to keep as I was preparing to move. Over a course of four-five months, I really tried to concentrate on what I see as the problem areas in my life---my book collection and all the sentimental stuff I can't seem to let go. I was really happy with how I slimmed down my personal library (it was PAINFUL) and loved the messages I got from friends when I stuffed envelopes full of high school and college pictures and sent them their way. 

So back to all of our stuff that we are (im)patiently waiting to get: did all of the thousands of pounds of things we had the movers pack bring me joy? 

You better believe that every single thing didn't. However, I did manage to purge, donate, throw away, give away, and sell quite a few things in this move. I still have many areas to go, but I really felt in June confident about my smaller but more practical wardrobe, and I picked out what I really loved for my small suitcase. 

Well, folks, after 129 days do know this: what I have here is no longer bringing me joy. 

I brought clothes I loved, and I am so sick of them now, I hate some of them. I can't wait to dump them donate them to the thrift shop as soon as the elusive household goods shipment gets here. 

So in the meanwhile, what do we do? 

This is when being a minimalist and being frugal sort of come together, but sadly, sometimes they work as opposite ends of the same concept.

If you are minimalist, you live with only what you need. I hate the 2 weeks' worth of clothes I have? Wow, that's a first world problem if there ever was one. I know people who live---by choice---with less clothes and are very happy.

I am frugal and hate spending money on anything new (and even things on sale), so the thought of buying something of cheap quality to tide me over until my other clothes arrive also makes me a little crazy.

groovy new slippers: only 6 euros at the grocery store!

Take shoes. I've lost 2 pairs of shoes in the move because they have worn slap-out. My favorite flip flops died a sad death (no pop top incidents, a la Jimmy Buffett, and sadly no margaritas).  I finally broke down and decided to spend the cash to replace them, but the few shoe stores I've visited didn't have anything close to my size. I wear a 41. Yes, I am tall which means I have big feet. They don't have a 41, but would I like to try a 39?

And this is when I am thinking to myself, do you have a hacksaw in the back room so I can just cut off a toe or three, lady? Because my big feet cramming into shoes 2 full sizes too small or having heels hang over the back just ain't gonna happen.

I've had three shirts fall apart, and I only packed six or so. Only one can be repaired, and the thought of sitting down with a sewing needle and my reading glasses just doesn't appeal to me, especially when I wore that shirt so much, I'm sick of it.

The point is this---in the last few years, we have downsized considerably, and we have chosen to live with less things (and as the cliché goes, with more experiences). My work towards a more minimalist life is closer to being a reality, thanks to multiple moves in five years and living where you can't get everything you can easily buy in the U.S. But I am still a consumer at heart, and as much as I would LOVE to say I hate shopping (mostly because I really, really hate to spend money), I realize I just hate shopping for things at full price. I still like nice things; I just like to purchase them at a bargain price.

source: taylorduvall.com

Last night I broke down and ordered a couple pairs of shoes and a few wardrobe essentials, and sure enough, this morning I got a message that our household goods are in Spain. Isn't that always what happens? You finally give up on holding out, and the next day you find out that you should have been just a tiny bit more patient.