To say that we live in a materialistic world, might be the understatement of the year. But we do live in a highly competitive world of people pushing themselves constantly to achieve more, to lead a better lifestyles, to earn more, to afford more, so they can buy more. It is a cycle, truely infinite. We have reached situations where people have more money than they can handle, that compels them to gold plate their cars, and have tigers on gold leashes.
Although, when you come to think of it, competition isn’t a necessarily a bad thing. It’s good to want to fly higher, it’s good to be able to provide yourself and your loved ones with the luxuries that you desire, it’s good to chase your dreams. But like every other facet of human behavior, the fixation of materialistic needs is what is dangerously baneful. We, physically and emotionally, drain ourselves trying to match up to the standards set by society, to attain fruits that are often meaningless.
Inspecting this stress that materialism induces, paired with the scandalous amount of nightmarish catastrophes that it reflects on to the our fast depleating natural resources, I took to looking into the idea of minimalism.
For all those whose lives don’t circle Netflix and YouTube in exaggerated amounts, and haven’t heard of the term, Minimalism is the idea of ridding ourselves of the excess, to survive on our necessities, to declutter in order to make room for happiness, calm and serenity.
Although the concept of “less stuff = less stress” has been widely proven and approved of, that’s not exactly all that minimalism means. It does not preach the cult idea of surviving like Bear Grylls or of living in extremely white, empty rooms, or of having a wardrobe of 33 items. Minimalism only means to rid yourselves of the excess, and what this excess means to you, is something only you can define for yourselves.
Growing up in family of maximalists, and being profound shopper, and lover of all things fashion, the thought of letting go of “stuff” seemed like an unrealistic goal. But as I explored the architect and designer part of me, I came to terms with the part of me that did function, and design, as a minimalist, which (I hoped) could possibly be expanded to more aspects of life.
As aforementioned, minimalism doesn’t advocate for you to give up on the things you love, and so I realised I could still keep (most) of the clothes I loved, as long as I purged often, donated often, and didn’t impulse shop. (More on that next week later)
Leading me to, thus, begin my journey as a clothes-loving, shoe-craving, minimalist.
(It probably helps that I love whites and greys 😋)