In Defense of Leisure

Crazy busy, covered up, snowed under, swamped… you get the drift.   At face value, all of these sound dreadful so why would we want to be in that boat?  The simple answer is that crazy busy and its ilk have become badges of honor that convey self-importance, relevance and worth as a human being.   We like to believe that crazy confers bragging rights.  And of course, that’s crazy. The real problem is that it’s become fashionable to be very, very busy or at least claim to be. 

Maybe it’s time to develop a more thoughtful relationship with time and in so doing, cultivate a more thoughtful relationship with ourselves and with others.   Can we quit the one-upmanship of comparing how busy we are?  Can we stop running late which sends the message that “My time is more valuable than your time. “?  Can we appreciate that having time to breathe, and think and sometimes do not much, isn’t a sign of worthlessness but rather a sign of worthiness.   

It sounds almost heretical, but the English philosopher, Bertrand Russell touted the notion “that time we enjoy wasting is not wasted time”.  Wasted carries some bad baggage. It’s in the batch of undesirables, like squandered or misused.  It wouldn’t be the word I’d have chosen, but what I think Russell really meant by “wasted” was time that was unstructured, relaxed, or not demonstrably productive or profitable. It is pleasurable time spent on oneself and on others who matter.  In Praise of Idleness, Russell’s 1932 treatise might be a bridge too far. So instead, try In Defense of Leisure. We’ve become desensitized to the benefits of leisure because of the 24/7 work cycle, the immediacy of communication and the expectation that we’re supposed to be busy, or better yet, crazy busy.  Idleness is a miscreant- akin to slacker, sluggard, or no goodnick.  But substitute some kinder words like unstructured, relaxed and pleasurable and some idleness sounds pretty good.

It’s not just rodents who are in the rat race.  We humans are hell bent on emulating the rat. Might we leave the wheel and the maze to the rodents and try some leisure without a trace of guilt?  Start in small doses and you’ll see that the stars won’t fall from the heavens.  Most of us aren’t as important as we imagine ourselves to be and that should come as a relief.  Some of what we busy ourselves with, doesn’t need doing.   And the things that do need doing, are better tackled when we’re not crazed.

Time is very consistent. Sixty seconds per minute. Sixty minutes per hour. 24 hours per day. So time is not what we manage. We manage ourselves by setting priorities and giving work and leisure both their due. It’s become fashionable to blame time when we under-deliver because we’re over- scheduled. Time’s an easy target- it can’t talk back or deny the accusations.  But we should blame ourselves when we don’t get things done that need to be done.  Figure out what you must do, and do it.  Things that don’t need to be done can be left undone- without handwringing and guilt.

Enjoying a bit of leisure can be the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down.  And titrating leisure with duty requires thoughtful balance.  One man’s leisure is another man’s burden. What’s your idea of relaxing? Bonbons and Netflix?  Yoga?  The morning paper with canine and coffee?  

The White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland was right. “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.”  Slow down and remember that the bit of time you’ve enjoyed wasting was not wasted time.

Find your pleasure!

When a Trophy, Isn't

This is the other story on trophies- how simply calling something a trophy doesn’t make it so. Here’s my explanation, which goes against the current and might even be considered overly harsh. I wish I had a picture of our erstwhile trophies but they were short-termers in our home. They were so meaningless that we don’t even have a snapshot of them. But even without a photo, they are unforgettable.

If someone in your family has been on a youth sports team in the past thirty years, you’ll know what I’m talking about. These awards are ubiquitous. A gold colored figure stands atop a faux marble base with an engraved plaque as a reminder of the team and the year. The figure, male or female, depending on the gender of the recipient, is posed in a stance typical of that sport.

Unlike the trophies of yore, these modern versions are awarded not for victory or success, but for mere participation. And you hardly even have to play. Just showing up earns you a prize. And what a shame that is. How have we come to the point that showing up is enough to earn a trophy? Isn’t that an unfortunately low bar? Winners and losers are rewarded equally in an attempt to make sure no one feels slighted. But this leaves everyone in a bad place- either squeamish about undeserved recognition or slighted by unheralded recognition. Who knew a plastic trophy could wield so much power!

Can you imagine all the thoroughbreds in the Kentucky Derby getting a gold loving cup? What about all the runners- up in the Super Bowl getting a ring? Or the first Olympic athletes all being crowned with the olive wreath? Absurd, you say. I’m not sure when “winners all” became the norm, but it has happened between my student days and those of my now adult children.

It’s not just in sports that trinkets are dispensed as a matter of course. Birthday parties with elaborate treat bags are common. Wedding favors are too. It used to be that attending a nice celebration with the promise of some delicious cake was adequate recompense, but no more. And what convention would be complete without the swag bag? It seems continuing education and professional development don’t happen unless accompanied by lots of branded odds and ends.

This might seem a bit far afield vis-à-vis my Rules. But it is closely linked to being careful about what things are brought into your home. Remember the endowment effect? Getting rid of something is much harder than never acquiring it would have been. We become devoted to meaningless things we own, simply because we own them.

I’m swimming upstream on this but it seems we’ve gotten things all mixed up. Equating participation with victory or guests with honorees is a mistake. And we double down on that mistake by sending everyone home with a trophy or a prize.

And providing prizes for everyone makes an ingrate out of anyone who even thinks of eschewing that prize. What six year old will be able to say, “All I did was look for four leaf clovers on the soccer field. Is my trophy for that?” What about the partygoer whose birthday present was nearly outdone by the party favor? Have you ever slinked away empty-handed from the parting gift table at a wedding reception, hoping not to be notice? All of these are awkward positions and the path of least resistance is to take the trophy. Ill-gotten trophies and unnecessary swag quickly become dusty burdens so if you feel you must take them, feel free to make ownership short-lived.

A pendulum swings. Might we be headed back in the direction of the classic trophy? Will simply participating or being a guest regain its traditional place as well? I hope so. But if the trophies, swag and favors that I’ve damned as worthless bring us to our senses, I’ll concede that they were not entirely worthless.

A footnote: I checked with the clover picker (who has many true talents, of which soccer is not one) to be sure this essay didn’t offend. Her response. "I love it! I am not offended. The four leaf clovers were way better than the trophy." Even as a young girl, she knew that simply calling it a trophy doesn’t make it a trophy. The plastic is gone, but the clover lives!

Marginal Utility

We’ve been pretty serious shellers for decades.  It’s a shared family hobby that turns beach walking into a treasure hunt. In the beginning, almost everything we found merited further scrutiny at home. Excitement over our finds temporarily obscured their flaws. But we quickly came to our senses.  Even our children learned that lots of shells were best left behind.  They took delight in discovering a beautiful specimen and grew in confidence by knowing that it was appropriate that much of what they found wasn’t going to be kept.  Even a young child can distinguish between beach detritus and a real find. Don't confuse them with faint praise!

When locals told us there were no shells on the beach, it only stiffened our determination to prove them wrong.  The beach was vast and teeming with life. How could there not be good shells? We learned that you’ve got to go slowly and pay attention to find the good stuff but the good stuff was usually there. With the help of a guidebook we learned to identify and name our finds. We became amateur curators of our collection.

What the mind knows, the eye will see.  Once you’ve seen a netted olive, or a reticulated helmet cowrie or a flamingo tongue in situ, it’s easier to find others. As our shelling skills grew, so did our standards. We became much more discriminating. Not every shell is a trophy.  (Not every trophy is either- but that’s another story).  Shells with obvious flaws were immediately rejected because we knew they would only detract from the pleasing collection at home. And on closer inspection, lots of shells with less glaring defects were culled on the second pass.  What had begun as somewhat ordinary collection soon became spectacular.  We remembered that for something to be special, a bunch of other things must not.

Maybe it’s a stretch, but I think our shelling can explain the concept of marginal utility which economists use to predict what a consumer will be willing to pay for “one more unit of something”.  How much satisfaction is gained from acquiring (in this case finding and keeping) one more unit of something (in this case, a shell)? When “one more” increases total satisfaction, the marginal utility is positive. When “one more” makes things worse, it’s negative. This explanation might put me on the wrong side of the economists, but the shells we rejected had negative marginal utility. They dealt a blow to our overall satisfaction. Adding another “unit of imperfection” to our collection diminished the whole.  And any reasonable person wanting to maximize satisfaction would feel the same way.

“Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add but when there is nothing more to take away.”  Maybe Antoine de St.Exupéry was part behavioral economist as well as philosopher.  There is always room for one more flawless shell in our bowl. But perfection was achieved a long time ago when we acted on what we knew to be true. It’s the reductive process that really satisfies.

A footnote: We’re ethical hunters. No gastropods were made homeless by our desire for their shell- no matter how desperate that desire.

A New Lease on Life

What do a Revere bowl, a baby cup and a colossal oyster shell have in common and why do they merit any mention?  Their commonality?  They are all well known forms, employed in unusual, but useful ways. Their worthiness of mention? They embody the World War II mantra, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” – specifically, the make it do part.

The post war boom years rendered this saying, passé, and not a moment too soon for those who lived through the Depression. It’s likely that this generation’s collective relief gave rise to the “more is more” mindset that the next generation so fully embraced. But what goes around comes around. Now it’s hyper consumerism and indiscriminate consumption that may have run their course and we’re in the midst of another shift –back to simplicity, balance and restraint.  But this time, the movement is voluntary and not matter of a national necessity.   More of us are treading more lightly and living more thoughtfully, and not feeling bad about any of it, especially the making do part.  

Making do has changed its stripes.  Forced restraint and frugality have given way to imagination and creativity.  Repurposing has never been more in style.  You don’t have to be crafty or clever to do this.  Next time you think, “I need to buy something to hold, store, or display my so-and-so”, stop and look around your home to see what deserves a ‘get out of jail’ pass for time served and good behavior.  Throw open cabinet doors. Unlid storage containers.  Open your eyes and go shopping without ever leaving home or communing with your computer. 

You probably have a lot of nice things tucked away that seldom (or never) get a chance to be contributing members of your team. Presumably the stuff you’ve been warehousing is stuff you actually like. Think outside the box or cabinet for ways to use your things that lets them breathe rather than suffocate; shine rather than stagnate. 

Pia finds the Revere bowl to be a very satisfactory kibble dish.  We find the baby cup and oversized oyster shell to be agreeable bathroom accouterments.  Form and function.  Beauty and utility.  All right under our nose.  What’s under your nose?  Sniff around and find out. If you don’t like what you find, ask yourself one question. ”Why am I keeping it?”  If you can’t come up with an even halfway convincing answer, let it go. If you are going to keep it, find a way to use it. You’re cleverer than you think.  

Before airline mischief sullied it, re-accommodate had a more pleasing connotation. It meant to make suitable or to adapt. If the Q-Tips, soap and kibble were able to express feelings, I suspect they would consider their new accommodations to be a serious upgrade from the cardboard box or sealed container where they originally lived.  So do your things a kindness.  Re-accommodate with abandon.  Send conventions packing.  Make it do and you’ll seldom be without!

Precious?

            "Quod ali cibus est aliis fuat acre venenum." Lucretius

              “What is food for one man may be bitter poison to others."

Garbage and Garage.  They’re similar phonetically and materially, at least when it comes to a sale.  I recently passed a poorly lettered yard sign which at a glance, read, Garbage Sale.   I thought, “What honesty.  A bold purveyor of trash!”  But my surprise was short lived.  As you have already surmised, the sign was for a garage sale. 

Even at 60 miles per hour, trash is trash. It was pretty clear that this seller had high hopes and buyers would need low expectations.  You can imagine what was on display.  Lots of rickety, outdated baby equipment, plenty of worn out plastic- riding toys, playhouses and kiddy kitchens, decrepit lawnmowers, tired furniture, scads of forlorn clothing and tables full of DPSA.*   Trash is very brave.  It frequently masquerades as treasure, having taken a cue from its owner.

There were few shoppers at this sale, and this paucity made the scene even more pathetic.  I wondered if the sellers had regrets.  I’m sure they regretted the poor turnout, but what I really wondered was whether they regretted having gotten themselves into a place where putting their unwanted, used goods on display for the world to see was the best way out.

“Airing one’s dirty linen in public” came to mind.   As did a modern version of Lucretius, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

With a nod to food for one being poison to another, I confess I’ve been looking for a morsel myself.  That’s why I was paying particular attention to the garage sale. I’m on the hunt for a one-gallon gas can. One that was manufactured before the government decreed that all gas cans should have some fiddly valve that has to be engaged for the spout to function.  Why the old ones were deemed “unsafe” is unknowable unless you work for the Consumer Product Safety Division.  If anyone has an idle can, you’ve got a willing buyer.  Name your price. 

But I digress. The mysteries of the garage sale persist.   Why do we own so much trash? Why do we imagine it to be treasure? Must consumption be all consuming? Why don’t we learn from our mistakes?  Should it not be a wakeup call when we take to vending our castoffs from our front yards?  

James Thurber believed, “Better to have some of the questions than all of the answers.” I’ve got the questions covered but am coming up short on answers.  One possible response to our mysterious love affair with trash is that we’ve forgotten that if everything is precious, then nothing is.  Simply calling things treasures doesn’t alter their essential trashiness.   Real treasures need breathing room. Resuscitation is easy.  Get rid of the trash and the good stuff springs back to life.

* DPSA (noun):  A deceased relative’s acronym for DAMN POOR SIT ABOUTS.  That’s eastern North Carolinaese for trinket, knickknack, gimcrack, or tchotchke. Feel free to spread this usage.  The originator would have been flattered.

“You can’t have everything…where would you put it?”  Apron Aphorism

Apron Aphorisms

This collection of adages is from sources too numerous to name.  But many thanks to all contributors- friends, family, cocktail napkins, aprons and even an obituary.  The first little maxim was found on an apron in a local shop that specializes in clever and sometimes racy merchandise.  Apron Aphorisms seems an apt name.  They're a lighthearted garnish to some heavier entrees.  Enjoy them. Essential truths are easier to swallow with a dose of wit and humor.                                    

 A Generous Baker's Dozen

*Pretending to be normal day to day is exhausting.

*The trouble with trouble is that it starts out as fun.

*Money well spent is still money spent. Killjoy!

*The downside of knowing about current affairs is they tend not to stay current.

*When all is said and done… more is said than done.

*Most passport pictures are good likenesses, and it’s time we faced it.

*If at first you don’t succeed… do it like your mother told you.

*One of these days… OK, I mean never.

*The only difference in a rut and a grave is depth.

*You can’t have everything.  Where would you put it?

*When “It goes without saying…”  Don’t say it.

*Does running late count as exercise?

*When duty and pleasure collide, let duty slide.

*Who is this Moderation we're supposed to be drinking with?

*I’m only here to establish an alibi.

One final truth, with proper attribution. "I'm sorry." I say.  In response,  my grandmother, Dorothy Arrington (who enjoyed the company of Moderation) "No need to be so damn sorry." Good advice. Thanks Granny!

Life, Well Edited

“Eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.”   Hans Hofmann

Editing has a bad reputation- undeserved in my book.  It conjures up fussy schoolmarms, publishing house curmudgeons, and bored students.  So I’m taking a stab at image consultancy for editing, admittedly with few credentials.  A genuine interest in all sorts of editing will have to suffice.

Grammar rules that previous generations were taught (and sometimes remember) have fallen victim to changing styles. You would have done well to short the stock of Oxford commas, orphaned prepositions and paragraph indentations.  These are the literary equivalents of the pickle fork, the formal RSVP, and the proper introduction- all going the way of the dodo bird. Precise punctuation and coherent construction of something worth saying don’t much matter in an email, text, or tweet. Saving time and limiting characters are today’s misguided motivators.  

Grammatical editing may seem a strange hook, but care and attention to your words can be a gateway to care and attention to your material things.  Think about the rules of English composition and edit your life as if it were an essay.  Remember your most demanding English teacher- the one who loved the red pencil? Endeavor to please her.  

The same concepts that apply to good writing can be used in best nesting.  What is your topic?  What themes will you explore?  Will coherent parts be clearly introduced, then supported by interesting and well-chosen details?  Will you let go of something you thought relevant to the whole when you realize it isn’t?  Will you polish your work, even if that means a third or fourth go, taking the time and care that a pleasing finished product demands?

From John Irving, “If you presume to love something, you must love the process of it much more than you love the finished product.”   Of course, he’s talking about writing.  But don’t be limited.  Well-chosen themes, attention to detail, and careful editing make lovely stories and lovely homes. In nesting, I challenge Irving's assertion that process trumps product.  Loving your creation as much as you loved creating it is fine in my book!  When you edit your material life as you would an essay, things fall into place. Subjects and verbs are agreeable.  Modifiers don’t dangle. Voice is clear. Detritus goes.  Treasures stay.  Order prevails.  

Lovely homes are built on the ironic notion that less is frequently more.  It’s ironic because this seems deliberately contrary to what one might expect.  If our nests are filled with more stuff than we use and enjoy, less should be a huge relief.  Why is our disgust with clutter an invitation to buy matching containers and tags for organizing our flotsam when it really should be jettisoned?  More things, as the cure for too many things could be the poster child for irony.  Sometimes irony brings along humor to lighten things up, but this time, she’s traveling solo.  Send her on her merry-less way!

 In a nutshell, will you do as Hans Hofmann says?  He was talking about art, but it’s excellent advice for the nest as well.

Predictably Irrational?

The ancient Egyptians were fans of the sarcophagus. They entombed their dead in these stone coffins after properly preserving the corpses.  No expense was spared and the rituals associated with embalming, entombing and enshrining were sacred.  

The box pictured above is a sort of weird, modern-day sarcophagus.   The not-so-elegant box enshrines a young woman’s debutante gown. Debuting, in the South, is a time-honored family tradition. Like most traditions, there is plenty to love and bits to wish gone. Some would decry this as foolish folderol at its best and antiquated and demeaning at its worst.  I’m not taking sides in any debutante debate.  It’s the deb dress, not the belle or the ball that’s the protagonist of this story.

The dress was chosen with an appropriate amount of fretting.  It was (and is) a beautiful, peau de soie dress- ballgowny without a hit of Cinderella.   It was worn one evening. Then it visited New York to be cleaned and preserved. I was never quite sure what that meant but everyone said it was important.  Maybe everyone was the company doing the preserving.  At any rate, a while later, the gown made its return trip to Charlotte.   It arrived in a cardboard sarcophagus.  Acid-free no doubt.  Since the wearer of the dress didn’t want to spend any time in that box, the preserver had thoughtfully put a cardboard female torso inside the dress as a stand-in. The box went on the top shelf of a closet, per instructions. You know I love rules and I wasn’t about to break the warning to never store the special dress in an attic, basement or any space that was not climate controlled and free of pests. 

You’re probably thinking, crazy, but the irrational part of this story is yet to come.

In Predictably Irrational, Dan Ariely exposes the myth of the ‘economic man’ being a rational self-maximizer.  He offers solid evidence showing that we’re not so rational after all. When the hard science of economics collides with the soft science of behavioral psychology, the mashup makes for irrationality. Not just random irrationality but predictable irrationality. 

I’d intellectually embraced this concept.  I even had an elevator speech to answer peoples’ quizzical looks.  “We’re made sadder by the letting go of something than we were made glad by the acquiring of it. Losing feels worse than winning feels good.”   But it took a deb dress to test me and make this real. 

We didn’t feel terribly elated when the dress was purchased.  We were satisfied and glad to scratch it off the list. That was enough.  But when that acid free box with the cardboard form and the finger-wagging instructions came back from the City, it may as well have been an ancient, stone sarcophagus. 

So how was I irrational?  By affording the same devotion to a dress that the Ancients afforded to their royalty, am I guilty as charged.  I embalmed, entombed and enshrined a dress- one that I was pretty sure that we’d never use again.  I don’t think of myself as a hoarder, but the enshrining of this dress was a form of hoarding.  I’d carefully hidden this treasure in a safe spot, like a squirrel storing his nuts. I had an opportunity to lend the dress to a dear friend and I was so wrapped up in having had this damn thing preserved that I missed the opportunity to be a friend.  I’ve long regretted the decision to not share my nuts.  The friend’s daughter wore another dress and she was lovely in it. But she could have been lovely in ours. But instead, the cardboard tomb was sealed shut.  And it was taking up a good bit of space in the climate controlled, vermin-free closet.

The rodent has cause to store his nuts. I can think of no reasonable justification for my past behavior. “I’m worried I’ll come up short of deb dresses next winter.”  See what I mean.  I should have shared my nuts. I’ve finally come to my senses.  The dress is traveling again. This time, in-state.  And my hope is that another young woman will want this beautiful dress and make happy memories wearing it.  I want this dress to be part of another family’s tradition.    I can honestly say that in this case, losing feels good. 

From the Rules. “Mistakes happen.  Admit, learn and move on.” Quit beating yourself up but endeavor not to make the same mistake again. I’m practicing being rational.  Better late than never.

Decorated Decorator

                                   Rule Maker and Breaker

Despite knowing precious little about Billy Baldwin, the decorated 20th century decorator,  the little I do know, I love.  And I feel a deep vein connects me to him.  It was his quotes that hooked me-his rooms were secondary. I did look at a few of his projects just to be sure he wasn’t blowing smoke.  He wasn’t.

Until a friend gave me a little book, “Sweet Nothings” Notes, Quotes & Ruminations on Not Much, Billy Baldwin was only a name. It was in the big subject of ‘not much’ that I discovered that Billy’s Rules and my Rules are simpatico.

Here’s the quote that piqued my interest. “Nothing-at-all is better than second-best.  Never fill an empty space just to fill it. Second-best is expensive, while nothing costs nothing.” Amen.  I was hopeful that Baldwin and I would agree on other things. I was not disappointed.

“One of my favorite colors is no color at all.” Agreed.

“Lately I’ve been thinking how comfort is perhaps the ultimate luxury.” Yep.

“Stick to things you really love. An honest room is always up to date.”  True.

“I don’t think anyone has the right to possess anything he doesn’t love- art or anything else.”  Sounds right.

“The word that almost makes me throw up is satin.  Damask makes me throw up.” Hallelujah

I love his rules. Without even knowing that I knew them, they have always guided me.  Learning Baldwin’s decorating philosophy confirms that the principles used in feathering my nest are not just personal quirks. That our nest  will never be featured in any publication or showcased on any home tour matters not.  It’s a private nest for my flock- family and friends. It’s honest. It’s comfortable.  It’s home to things that we love.  It’s long on off-white- my favorite non-color.  It’s full of empty. And I assure you it’s devoid of satin and damask!

Baldwin is both a rule maker and a rule breaker. “The first rule of interior designing is that you can break almost all the rules.”

Mind you, this truth requires a general knowledge of the rules. How can you flout a rule if you don’t even know the rule exists? Amen again!  Rules make decisions easier.  Think of them as guardrails for imaginings gone amok. They'll keep “What was I thinking?” at bay.  What are the rules that guide you?  They don’t have to be Billy’s or mine. Define yours. Practice them.  And even break them.

Your best nest awaits!

Mise en Place

The French have many wonderful expressions that have made their way across the pond.   Mise en place is one of them. It’s a term every chef knows by heart- everything in place.  And even if you’re not inclined to the kitchen, well-planned cooking can be a metaphor for well-planned living. 

So how does culinary mise en place work?  First, read the recipe.  Next, assemble necessary ingredients, tools, and equipment.  After this, prep the ingredients- measure, chop, grate etc.  Then and only then, commence cooking.

You might be asking, “Isn’t this a lot of wasted time up front?”  You’re eager to turn up the heat, not to gather and prep.  But the time spent preparing to cook will make the cooking smoother and the finished dish better.  Who among us hasn’t finished a recipe and realized they’d left out the splash or smidgen of something.  At that point, it’s too late and all you can do is hope.  Hope is a decent drop-back strategy but makes for a lousy first line of defense.

So even if cooking isn’t your thing, mise en place is still a very useful technique for bettering your nest.  It works in the sock drawer and the desk drawer.  It’s at home behind closet and pantry doors. Papers, keys, and phone charger are all happy to submit to it.  And this humble technique can save the day by saving a few minutes here and there.  Those minutes add up to hours and hours become days.   So much for “wasted” up front time! 

Fewer frantic, fruitless searches save not only time, but sanity as well.  Most of us are happier and less stressed knowing where our things are.   The time spent preparing a home for your things will be repaid handsomely.  Time waits for no one.  The piper cometh! Pay me now or pay me later. You decide.   

Mise en place is really behavior management and when you manage your behavior, your time falls right into place.  Your things don’t have minds of their own. They are very amenable to living where you tell them to live.  Assign them a home and then remember their address. As with most real estate matters, it’s location, location, location.

Do you have too many things to provide a decent home for all of them?  Be honest. You know if you do.  And not even an engineer or professional organizer can make that work.  Your stuff has to have a bit of breathing room.  Things you use frequently need to be at the ready.  Things that play seasonal or occasional roles can be stored accordingly.   Put things where they make sense to you.

“Misorganization” (my word only) Noun. Put together in a way that misses the mark; wrongly organized. For example, when everything is in a place but the place is still unknown and inaccessible to things’ owner.  So mise en place is not just a place for everything but everything in the right place.

Magnifique!

Inverse Relationships

       "C'est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante."  Le Petit Prince

An inverse relationship is one between two numbers in which an increase in the value of one number results in a decrease in the value of the other number. Value is an absolute, not a subjective description.

Examples from different fields and disciplines

Bond price and bond yield (Ask any economist.)

Volume and pressure (Ask Professor Boyles.)

Cost of the wedding and length of the marriage (Ask the Emory University economists.)

Kitchen bells and whistles and amount of cooking done (Don’t ask because I won’t tell.)

Ok. This last one is more my observation than a law of physics or economics.  But it’s more common than you’d think. When complimented on her fabulous professional kitchen, the owner breezily said. “Oh, I don’t cook. It’s just for resale.”

So maybe switch the inverse and have your possessions match the way you live, work and play. That would be a direct relationship.  And it would make much more sense than the inverse.  But what if you took it one step further and had the activity increase as the stuff decreased?  What if you turned the inverse on its head?

So much yoga, so few pants.  So many meals, so little equipment.  So many dinner parties, so little china.  So many outings, so few outfits.  So much fun, so few toys. You get the idea.  Less stuff. More living. 

Think of it as being the ultimate good steward of your things. Use them. Enjoy them. Care for them. Share them. The ones you love that are mostly moribund should be revived. If resuscitation fails, put them to rest. And the ones that you’ve always hated…off with their heads!

Fewer things, better things.  Limited choices, endless possibilities.

Anything but Average

The Rule- "Be as careful about what you let into your home as whom you let in."

Recently a snippet on NPR caught my ear. It was part of a bigger story on recycling falling short- how little of what can be recycled, is.  The bit that interested me was that in the Western Hemisphere, the average woman buys 67 items of clothing each year.  And on average, they are worn seven times before being discarded. A few days later, a story in The Economist caught my eye-“Green is the new black”. The gist of this article was that while style is supposed to last, the world of ‘fast fashion’ is giving style a run for its money.  What’s on the shop rack changes almost overnight and once we’ve brought it home, it doesn’t last long in our closet either -less than half as long as it did just fifteen years ago. If you’re only wearing it seven times, it’s a guest, not a resident.

So a friend with a curious mind and a willingness to be a guinea pig took my bait.  “Let’s keep track of what we buy and see if we are above or below average.  April Fool’s was launch day.  The sample size is small. The study is poorly designed.  And neither NPR nor The Economist will be interested in our results.  But that’s ok. Our interest in “stuff” is reason enough to proceed. 

As to the poor design- let me count the ways. A sample size of two. Co-mingling of subject and observer- not exactly the experimental gold standard. Cognitive biases a plenty: confirmation, social desirability, superiority, and expectation.  If these were not damning enough, throw in bandwagon and subject-expectancy effects and the experiment appears doomed. But not so fast!  It’s true that statisticians, social scientists and behavioral economists might be unimpressed, but fortunately, we don’t care a fig about the robustness or statistical significance of our study.  We’re just two inquiring minds wanting to know. 

So why am I telling you about this with only two of fifty-two weeks under our belts? The simple answer-to hold our feet to the fire. Public proclamation tends to do that. Anything but Average was easy to start, but might be hard to sustain, and even harder to finish.  The logging of purchases should be easy. It’s the buy/ don’t buy dilemma that may be hard.  And I imagine the chicken and egg conundrum will be the hardest part. Which came first- not buying because we want to appear better than average, or the belief we are better than average and seeking proof of said belief?

The list won’t lie- proudly below average (a bonafide ‘enoughist’) or humbly above average (a chastened tail-tucker)? It all depends on what we let in. Only time will tell.

The Wardrobe Reimagined

“Clothes do not exist to humiliate their owners.”  
-Tim Gunn

The Rule: FASHION IS FLEETING AND SHOULD BE LARGELY IGNORED. STYLE ENDURES.  Define yours.  It’s nothing more than confidence, clarity, and consistency, tempered with authenticity.

Having a wardrobe that works  isn’t as hard as we make it.  Thinking about the why of wardrobe before you dive into the what of wardrobe matters greatly. Here are a few thoughts to help you keep your emotions in check as you get your sartorial splendor on!

First, you’re not alone.  Most women have a jam-packed closet but say they have little to wear. The old 80/20 rule applies to clothes.  Most (80%) of the time, we wear a small (20%) portion of what we own. Rid your closet of items that don’t make you happy and confident.  Just because you paid a lot of money for it, or it was a gift from your mother-in-law, doesn’t mean you have to keep it.  Every time you see the item you are passing over, it’s a fresh dose of guilt.  Let it go.

Style and fashion are not the same. Fashion is fleeting.  Style endures. Style isn't what works on someone else, but what works on you.  Identify yours so that you’re not a slave to fashion whims.  Get help if you need it. A chic and candid friend can be a good bet, provided she doesn't secretly harbor schadenfreude over your wardrobe gaffes!  Otherwise,  a stylist or wardrobe consultant can make short order of the disorder in your closet.   Their reputation is at stake. They want you to look good and be confident in your appearance.  No mistakes on their watch!  

But past mistakes are just that- past. Learn from them.  Don’t beat yourself up over regrettable purchases, just don’t make that mistake again. Buy clothes that fit the real you- not the fantasy you.  Keep track of what you own.  Who really needs ten black sweaters?  Identify the holes in your wardrobe (both actual and metaphorical).  The actual holes should be repaired or the garment discarded.  The metaphorical holes should be filled so you have a wardrobe that is programmed for success.  

The clothing uniform is the gateway to the lifestyle uniform.  When you embrace a streamlined, simplified wardrobe, you might be encouraged to streamline and standardize other aspects of your life.  Streamlining doesn't mean boring or drab.  It means making lots of low-stakes  decisions automatic so you have the time, energy and emotional bandwidth to deal with weightier decisions in the best possible way. 

So how do you rid yourself of the mistakes- the stuff in your closet that seldom or never is invited out of the closet?   

The Closet Rehab Primer

Everything comes out of the closet and is sorted into one of four categories:

1.  The Soul-Stirring Pile: These are the clothes you adore.  They fit.  They make you look good. They make you feel good. 

2.  The Repair Pile:  These are the soul-stirrers that need a little attention- hems, buttons, and creases. Give yourself 5 days to either make the repairs or put them in the hands of a professional. Honestly, if you can’t find time to do it in 5 days, maybe the garment isn’t as soul-stirring as you thought.

3.  The Give Away Pile: These are your culls that can bring happiness to someone other than you.

4.  The Throw Away Pile: Your culls that won’t bring happiness to anyone.

Piles 3 and 4 are comprised of misfits, mistakes (no matter their cost or their provenance), and mysteries (items that for unknown reasons you simply never wear). Clothes that might be fashionable again, but that's a risk you can afford to take, should go in Pile 3. 

As with all the Rules, exceptions are permitted, even encouraged.  The pieces for posterity (Granny's rabbit fur capelet or kidskin opera gloves) certainly qualify.  Treat them kindly when they are being stored and do your best to find an occasion to let them shine.  And be certain the next generation knows why you love them so they can too.

Identity what makes you love the soul- stirrers. Fill the holes, mindful of your “look”. Buy fewer but better things. Favor timelessness over trendiness.  Don’t save the things you love just for special occasions.  Put them into your regular rotation and wear them with confidence and style. “I have no idea what to wear.”  “What was I thinking?”  Perish the thoughts!

Final truth.  “Fashion is designed to become unfashionable.”  Coco Chanel 

Traveling Light

I recently enjoyed a long weekend trip to southern California.  There would be no hiking, no gala, and no inclement weather, so my clothing needs were minimal.  It seemed like an excellent time to channel the Marys- Poppins and Fraulein- an unusual aim, but I hope to convince you of its merit.

So off I go, with my trusty tote as my only bag. I’d pared things to the bone- black pants, white shirt, grey sweater, pashmina, yoga clothes, some ‘smalls’, running shoes, essential toiletries (learn to like the ones the hotel provides), one book and one wee knitting project.  With what I was wearing, this seemed like a plenty.

 It was a tight fit, but the zipper zipped and off I went.

The flight was oversold. My boarding group number portended a gate- checked bag. While others were jostling and scrambling, I rested easy knowing that my bag would fit handily under the seat in front of me.  No baggage carousel.  No surcharge for the driver to toss luggage in the trunk.  And no bellhop hoping to relief me of my bag. Freed of the burden of too much, I enjoyed the luxury of enough.

As to Mary Poppins and Fraulein Maria, based on cinematic evidence, both had perfected the art of packing. Remember Mary Poppins floating over London rooftops with carpetbag in hand?  And who could forget Maria, tripping over the Alps with her carpetbag breezily floating behind.

My exemplars knew the delights of traveling light and had perfected the art of packing.  What can we learn from these governesses who specialized in making order out of chaos?  Quite a bit, actually.

First, they had not just everything they needed, but nothing they didn’t. When you have to tote your own bag, you think twice about just in case items.  Next, we learn that a uniform can be freeing, not constraining. If you’ve been toying with the idea of a wardrobe uniform, traveling is a good time to try it on in anonymity. Unless you’re famous or infamous, no one will remember or care if you’ve worn the same look the entire trip. If you’re not going to win the game of fashion, no matter how much you pack, sit that game out. Finally, you’ll find that careful packing means less to carry, less to accidentally leave behind, less to unpack, and less to launder.  Lots more less!

Traveling light doesn’t mean traveling bland.  There is almost always room for the parrot-headed umbrella, the guitar, or whatever it is that makes you, you. 

A good test of perfect packing is to be able to truthfully say, “I used everything in my bag and never needed anything I didn’t have.”  It’s not just clothing and toiletries that need careful vetting.  Learn to curb your ambitions while traveling.  How many books are you going to open, needlecraft projects complete, or drawings sketch? How many accouterments do you really need?  Honestly, not many. A little something to keep you occupied during the boring parts of travel is reasonable, but remember, you’re going on a trip to see someone or do something that you can’t see or do at home so don’t bring too much of home with you. It will be there when you return. Convinced?

 Perfection in packing … Ave Maria!

A Bunch of Pretty Things I Did Not Want

“It might be fair trade, organic leg warmers, but if your legs aren’t cold, it’s still a frivolous purchase.” Sarah Lazarovic , A Bunch of Pretty Things I Did Not Buy

In this charming and thoughtful book, the theme is restraint in consumption- learning how to say no when you know you don’t need it.  And who couldn’t use a bit of restraint?  But what if we took restraint a bit further?  What if “a bunch of pretty things I did not buy” became “a bunch of pretty things I did not want”?

Reframing versus Restraining

Restrain connotes privation- making do with a somewhat heavy heart. Self-righteous in our self-denial. Constrained. Reframe bespeaks liberation- sure-headed and light- hearted in our letting go.  Contented. 

Throughout the ages and across cultures, sages have laid bare the pernicious nature of unchecked desire.

Socrates in 4th Century BC Greece:  Seeing a pile of gold and jewelry being borne in procession through the streets of Athens, exclaimed, “Look how many things there are which I don’t want.”

Epictetus in 1st Century BC Greece: “ Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.”

Rousseau in 18th Century France: “There are two ways to make a man richer: give him more money, or curb his desires." Paradoxically, the net effect of more money may be to impoverish, by fostering unlimited or unrealistic expectations; thus perpetuating permanent gaps between what we want and what we can afford.  Wealth is not an absolute. It is relative to desire. Every time we yearn for something we cannot afford, we grow poorer, whatever our resources. And every time we feel satisfied with what we have, we can be counted as rich, however little we may actually possess.

 Thoreau in 19th Century America:  “Man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can do without.” 

 Edwin Way Teale in 20th Century America:  “Reduce the complexity of life by eliminating the needless wants of life, and the labors of life reduce themselves."

The Buyerarchy of Needs was created with apologizes to Maslow.  With apologies to Lazarovic, I suggest one addition to the pyramid.  At the base, as the foundation on which successive layers rest, “ Look at how many things there are that I do not want.” 

Thanks Socrates and all the rest.

Make a Decision

 “Be decisive. Right or wrong, make a decision.  The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn’t decide. “ Anon

Decision-making is inherently difficult- more so for some than others.   Those who like to mull can find themselves mired in confusion over something as inconsequential as which brand of mustard or which shade of white paint to select. The insane range of possibilities only makes the problem worse.

  The Tyranny and Paradox of Choice

These concepts are not original to me but I have embraced them as foundational to Robin’s Rules. Their provenance is impressive.  The tyranny comes from The Economist and the paradox comes from Barry Schwartz’s, The Paradox of Choice.  The core problem is that when we are presented with too many choices, we begin to imagine that there is a “perfect” choice. Occasionally there is. But more often, perfect is only aspirational and our quest for it blinds us to the good or good enough that is right in front of us.

Hundreds of mustards, oils, and pickles on the grocery shelf don’t make the decision easier- they make it harder.  Picking a pickle becomes epic.  The hesitant shopper in the condiment aisle is on his phone asking for a lifeline.  “Do you want me to get the organic, the sugar free, the chunky, the coarse, the mild, the spicy, the glass jar, the squeeze bottle, the store brand, the American brand, the French brand, the buy one get one free…”  I kid you not.  Schwartz goes through a similar exercise with denim.  Jeans used to be zipper, button, straight or flair.  You’ve been to the jeans' purveyor and know that the condiments have nothing on the denim!

In recent years, behavioral researchers have unearthed some intriguing insights. Having no choice makes us unhappy and having too much choice does too. That no choice is a downer probably didn’t need social science experiments to determine. But that too much of a good thing is a bad thing, isn’t so obvious.  The paradox or tyranny of choice has been tested and validated repeatedly. In one landmark experiment, conducted in a swank California grocery, researchers displayed a sampling of jams.  First, they offered 24 tempting varieties. The next day the offering was culled to only six tempters. Shoppers who took part in the samplings were rewarded with a discount voucher to buy any jam of the same brand in the store. It turned out that more shoppers stopped at the display when there were 24 jams. But when it came to buying afterwards, fully 30% of those who stopped at the six-jam table went on to purchase a pot against merely 3% of those who were faced with the selection of 24.  Similar experiments have yielded consistent results. Choice exacts a high price- confusion, indecision, even panic. Goldilocks was lucky. With only three options, just right was the obvious choice. 

We’ve reached the point where the effort required to investigate and weigh all the options is wearing us out.  And as we fatigue with information overload, the burden of vetting the alternatives outweighs the benefit of the extra choices. Why are retailers slow to take notice? They seem hell-bent on more being better, even though this might be to no one’s advantage. What the seller wants to sell us is not necessarily what we want to buy.  As Schwartz reminds us, “Choice no longer liberates, but debilitates.” 

Remember the squirrel!

The Stockholm Syndrome Revisited

The Stockholm Syndrome, is the phenomenon in which victims display compassion for and even loyalty to their captors. It’s typically associated with dreadful things like kidnappings and abductions.  But it’s not too much of a stretch to apply it to our relationship with our possessions, where they are the captors and we, the unwitting victims.

Over time, we make excuses for our things and admit to being comforted by them. Once we own something, we place a higher value on it than we did when we acquired it- “the endowment effect”.  Put another way, once an item makes your team, it’s hard to cut it from your team.  All well and good if it’s something you need, use and love. But where things begin to unravel is when we afford this same loyalty and status to clutter, odds and ends and junk.

Blame evolution for this odd behavior.  Our ancestors lived with chronic scarcity and getting rid of anything was risky business. You might be left cold, hungry and naked.  In the affluent world, scarcity is at most an occasional worry. We’re warm, full and well-clad. Yet we’re hardwired to want more. In our overstuffed existence, it’s buying that’s risky business.  “Retail therapy” is not what the doctor ordered. That shopping has been medicalized, even tongue in cheek, should give us pause.

Behavioral economists have devised clever experiments that prove we are reluctant to let go of things even if we don’t need them or like them. We are more psychologically and emotionally saddened by letting go of something we don’t like than we were gladdened by acquiring it.

This might sound like a lot of nonsense, but the message is simple:  Be careful about what you acquire because it may end up owning you. Holding on to things you don’t like, want or need is one way of protecting yourself from the bad feelings letting go engenders. And it’s also the way to be awash in clutter.

You’ll know you’re in trouble when you start making excuses for your clutter.  Can you hear yourself saying, “It’s not that much stuff.  I might need this one day.  It was a gift from my mother.  I already have a lot of piles- one more won’t matter.”?  These are common symptoms of the Syndrome.

Has your home become a prison because of your sympathy for your inanimate captors?  Does your devotion to the 'mouse and the mall' cloud your better judgment ?  If so, the diagnosis may be the Stuff Syndrome.

You wouldn’t willingly welcome a stranger or a dangerous person into your home.  Exercise the same vigilance with things.                                                    

 “Losing feels worse than winning feels good.”

 Vin Scully was talking baseball, but the same is true for stuff. 

To the Doer Goes the Spoils

Road to Hell; proper noun

1. A route paved with good intentions

2. A repository of countless scorched soles

3. A thruway to be avoided owing to crowded conditions and heavy tolls

It’s a place many of us have trod, cursing our internal GPS for leading us astray.  To time wasted, soles singed and worthwhile laid bare as worthless.  As the road gets hotter and more serpentine, getting the hell out becomes more urgent.

How do you find a more pleasing byway?  By becoming a doer. Thinking is easy. Doing frequently isn’t.  But without follow through, intentions aren’t worth the time it takes to think them.  Intending to do something means not doing it, so don’t give yourself much credit just for thinking.

We don’t have to do everything we think.  Much of what we consider doing probably won’t be done and a goodly portion shouldn’t be done.  Imagined endeavors give us cover from the mundane but vital things we have to do.  Fantasy projects keep one foot in la la land, rather than on terra firma. Getting things done is hard.  It’s called working.  Not getting things done is easy.  It’s called loafing. 

                                                                       How To Get Things Done

First, appreciate that thinking (intentions) and doing (accomplishments), are related, but not as closely as we might wish.  Next, be willing to pull the plug on ideas that really should be circling the drain. When you realize that the thing you thought needed doing, really doesn’t, let it go. The road to crazy is paved with “If I think it I must do it.” Finally, remember that better is the enemy of the good.  Good is often good enough.

There are signposts indicating shaky ground. Heed them and course correct before it’s too late.

“I’ll get around to this soon …” is a first utterance.

“One of these days…” takes over when soon has long since past.

“When pigs fly…” indicates reality is setting in.

“Ok- Never.”  That’s it- the final pronouncement.  The good intention has put you in a bad place and you’re ready to admit your folly, cut your losses, and move on to something worth doing.

Never is not a failure.  Failure is continuing to make excuses or beat yourself up over something that you’ve realized doesn’t matter, or isn’t worth the time and energy required for completion.  Give yourself a pass on things you know are nevers.

I’m never going to organize my family’s pictures.  I mustered just enough will to have 1000 of the “best” (a dubious description) professionally scanned and saved to a disc and file.  The rest are in photo boxes, in rough chronological order.  There are no albums.  There are no collages.  And the thousands that hide in the computer are never going to be printed.  To do more with these photographic memories would be my personal Road to Hell.  What’s yours?  

                                                                   “Do or do not.  There is no try.”  Yoda

Surviving Abundance

“I have eaten a bumblebee and it’s under my shirt.” 

Whoa there.  Since when did abundance become a problem?  For much of history, man has been vigilant about conserving scarce resources. Surviving abundance is a weird 21st century twist on an ancient problem of surviving scarcity.  Our ancestors, living on the edge, couldn’t have fathomed the notion that we’d be struggling to get rid of excess stuff. 

About the only thing in short supply now is restraint.  We are overwhelmed by needless wants that only serve to increase our hassles and anxieties while decreasing our bank accounts.

Part of this is a naming problem. Abundance sounds pretty benign, maybe even desirable.  It connotes prosperity, safety, and well-being.  And if only we could recognize when enough is enough, abundance would be just fine.  But what we’re really dealing with is overabundance.  Excess. Surfeit.  Glut. Doesn’t sound so promising now, does it?

If you often feel like you’re drinking from a fire hose, you might be a victim of abundance gone amok.  Rather than being quenched, you’re drowning.  Too much comes in lots of packages- food, clothing, technology, gizmos, square footage and social media.

Once you’ve recovered from too much, how do you avoid being in survival mode again?  Flex your restraint muscles.  Practice saying no to frivolous purchases, no matter how alluring they may be.  Distinguish between needs (fundamental) and wants (fleeting).  Think before you do.

It’s easier to restrain than to recover.  Sips from the chalice of enough beat mopping up from the firehouse hose.

About that bumblebee?  This is a bastardization of the old saying, “I have eaten abundantly, any more would be an exert.” Until now, I assumed that others were privy to this expression that is delightful in both iterations.  But I find no mention of it anywhere, except in my family.  So this old saying, heretofore known only to the six grandchildren of Dorothy Arrington, can now be yours too.  

But be careful, lest you find yourself with a bumblebee under your shirt!

When All Is Said and Done

                                                             "Yesterday you said tomorrow." Anon

"When all is said and done..."  It’s a common expression. I’ve used it often and you probably have too.  What we seldom hear is the corollary to this phrase.  So try this on. "When all is said and done, more is said than done.”

That doesn’t trip off the tongue quite so easily. But it is frequently true.  And why is that?  One culprit is procrastination.  Procrastination isn’t a fairy godmother bestowing extra time.  It’s an insidious time thief.  And what’s a favorite way to procrastinate (aka waste a lot of time)?  The offender is often technology. Technology, in all its forms, can be a time saver but it’s often a time sink, especially for the tech challenged.   

                                                                              Time Sinkers

                                     Bloating your inbox by checking email rather than dealing with it

                             Cluttering your desktop with pdfs and documents for want of file folders

                                     Clicking remind me tomorrow (or never) for the software update

                                Knowing it’s in there somewhere but not having any idea how to find it

If you are feeling good about your computer skills because you can cut and paste or do a screen shot (I speak personally here), you might want some coaching.  Otherwise, the digital world will leave you behind in a cloud of bits and bytes.

Don’t despair.  A bilingual digital native-fluent in English and tech talk, can throw you a lifeline. For those who are at best, conversational in tech speak- the linguistic equivalent of being able to order café au lait and croissants in France, help can be helpful. A tech tutor can save you from yourself when you know a bit but it’s often just enough to get yourself into trouble.

Relying on children to bail us out when we make a colossal mess of things isn’t a strategy for success.  They might rescue us in a pinch, but learning how not to make the mess in the first place is a better long-term plan.  Find a teacher who can meet you where your messes begin, explaining things in a way that won’t make you feel like the village idiot.  A good teacher can  translate tech talk into plain English, allowing your skimpy language skills to morph into proficiency and maybe even fluency!

Don’t let your devices steal your time.  Don’t fall prey to the notion that you’re getting things done when in truth all you’re doing is shuffling electronic piles- the 21st century equivalent of rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.  Largely a waste of time!

Stop procrastinating. Be able to say,  “When all is said and done, more was done than said.”