A big wicker basket sits in our front closet to hold the things we no longer use or have grown out of that will, eventually, be donated to the second-hand store. Stuff accumulates in the basket each time we clean out closets or toy bins, often in a covert manner to avoid detection by family members who see what I'm trying to get rid of and can't part with the newly rediscovered prized possession. After six months, items we haven't given another thought about depart to find new life in someone else's home; however, what always puzzles me when I see the basket get filled up is...where has it all come from?
We try to live a clutter-free life and we could not be accused of having shopaholic tendencies, yet I balance our books each month with the receipts we have gathered and wonder how our family of four has managed to spend so much money. I loathe throw-away packaging, having to pay full-price, and low-quality products, therefore, I am acutely aware of what comes into our house and still we buy and buy.
I'm not the only one questioning the value of ubiquitous consumption; there's a resurgence in homemade gift-giving, repurposing vintage furniture and materials, and learning how to sew, knit, and cook. I don't believe we will covet antiques of the future which originated in the big box stores, and while re-gifting is better than dust collecting, I mourn for all the resources that went into making our unnecessary possessions.
Techniques that have worked for me to steer clear of bad purchases:
1. Think about it for 24 hours. Chances are I will walk out of that store and not come back the next day to buy the thing I didn't need in the first place.
2. Be creative. When I delay my purchase, I often find something I already own that will fit the bill, so to speak.
3. Do the research. When I know what my choices are, I am always more satisfied with my purchase and I can take advantage of limited time offers without experiencing buyer's remorse. Amortized over many years, that large-ticket item becomes a bargain.
There are a couple of purchases we've made that I'm proud to say give me a good shopping high. We entertain ourselves by perusing the ads on Kijiji, looking at sellers trying to unload their junk at crazy high prices, or the ones who bother selling at all for items with a $1 price tag (Please note: if that is you, find your nearest shelter and run, don't walk, to donate it all.). I'm tempted to comment on ads to tell people their stuff is not unique, it's hideous, and it's not antique, it's obsolete; or for the people who post a new ad every day for the same thing and clog up the system, I want to say: your stuff isn't any more desirable today than it was yesterday. We have found a few needles in the haystack including a metal desk for our son, a bargain at twenty-five bucks, a large cedar chest for $50, and an antique chalkboard for $65. From a local used furniture store, we unearthed a $15 solid wood bedside table that, with a $10 can of creamy-white paint, was transformed into a shabby chic piece my daughter can take with her someday because it's built to last. My favourite buy has been a large old pendant light shaped like a pineapple with cut glass to mimic the texture of the fruit that reflects a beautiful pattern on the stairwell walls. There's probably no one on my block, or in my whole town, that has a light like that.
Despite what we've been told, every season or holiday does not call for a brand new wardrobe or decorating scheme. Timeless quality should be our new buzz words. When my daughter asked me why we use the same Christmas decorations every year, I said, "It's called tradition." Everything we own does not have to be trendy, or even unworn. You have only to watch a kid outgrow their clothes in one season to appreciate hand-me-downs. And having a small piece of family history like my great-grandmother's dresser and nightstand or my grandmother's pewter lamp, give me joy that a new piece can't provide.
Our wicker basket was recently purged of old clothes, a set of lamps, and a black dress suit that my son tried to squeeze into with no luck, and now it sits empty, waiting. Over the holiday season, I hope we've learned our lesson and it remains empty because we will want to cherish our gifts, or at least put them to good use. Hint: A poem dedicated to your loving mother would be a perfect gift idea.
