No more non-essential shopping.

1 – Shopping abstinence

I have too much stuff. Most of us do – it’s a requirement of the age. Think of our economies as Great White sharks. If they stop swimming, they die.

Our version of capitalism runs similarly; for “swimming” substitute “buying.” [1]

I don’t love it. I don’t love the mountains of stuff that clutter my life. I don’t love the generalized shortage of funds that comes with continually purchasing things – for most of us, money and stuff are an either-or.

Advertisers tell us stuff is good; that buying new and more stuff is even better. They’re not lying: I love bringing home something fresh and feeling my neurotransmitters surge.

Happiness is a new purse. Happiness is a kickass pair of boots. At least for a minute.

Doesn’t that seem a bit wrong, tying our mood to things?


I wonder how much of the acquisition pleasure is innate, and how much is training. I wonder what I’ll do with my time now that I’m taking recreational shopping off the table for a year.

You can’t have less stuff if you keep bringing more home, regular culls notwithstanding.

I wonder how Amazon will do with my year of buying less? Most of me is convinced they won’t care, but a tiny bit in the back hopes they’ll send me a “come back” gift card. It would be rude to refuse.

I’d like the malls more if they had more comfortable flooring.
Tile on cement isn’t it.

2 – KonMari Method

A few years back, Marie Kondo, an organizing author and consultant based in Japan, became a global pop culture icon via Netflix. She introduced the world to her KonMari method, her path to a better life via tidying, organizing, and decluttering.

Her exhortations to remove from our lives those things that don’t “spark joy” – a phrase that has since developed a life of its own – fell on the ready ears of an audience always on the lookout for something new.

We’re a culture that searches for peace and happiness at the mall. We’re fans of the external fix. Why wouldn’t we look for Zen in shoe boxes and spa-fold towels?

The KonMari method effect can be seen everywhere. Home decluttering and organizing is a serious industry these days. An ersatz California Closet is suddenly within the reach of most.

Inspiration is but a TikTok or a trip to Target away.


The first steps are the most critical, and it’s more productive to organize and tidy after slashing and burning your way through your contents. Ruthlessness is important when getting rid of things – if I’m any indication, most of us hang onto the utterly useless for far too long.

The truth is, you aren’t going to get to it, and you probably aren’t going to wear it. We prioritize the things we enjoy and that make us happy. The rest get shoved into boxes, into closets, and into basements for a later that never arrives.

There are, of course, seasonal and sentimental exceptions. One doesn’t get all that much daily use from the plug-in jack-o-lanterns, but I still hang on to them for those two weeks in October.

I don’t get much use out of the mementos stored in my hope chest either, but I plan to keep the memories stored there intact just the same.  

I did throw out several “maybe someday” shower gels the other day. It’s a start.

The clothing palettes in production photos are so desperately neutral.

3 – Declutter and De-own

I’ve no idea why throwing things out is a wrench. I don’t truly believe that the sweater is upset, or the hat has its feelings hurt. I anthropomorphize some, but I know where to draw the line. Mostly.

I’ve no idea why I attach to my stuff. It’s like I’m an imprinting duckling, and my things are the mama duck.

I’m also fairly possessive with my things. Other people will have to buy their own, much to the seller’s delight. I have a bit of the miser’s glee when I hold what I own close. Though, considering our mortality, “ownership” is really just renting.

Perhaps we avoid getting rid of things because reducing our possessions represents change, and for all our talk, we don’t seem to like change that much.

We’d do better with resolutions were it otherwise.

There’s a lightness, however, that arrives when we rid ourselves of some of the consumerism anchors we keep lying about. I struggled, especially with older, family things – what will the dead say about my abandonment – but I have no regrets now that it’s done.

Not having backups for the backup pillowcase is freeing. Not having enough towels for the Olympic team does indeed spark joy in my heart. Knowing I don’t have too much in the way of almost everything makes my world feel lighter.


After you’ve culled your possessions, it’s time to think about your storage situation. Is it sufficient? Is it organized? Is it pretty?

It’s amazing how many things we’re encouraged to buy as we seek to reduce and organize.

And your stuff, how’s it looking? Is it clean? Is it in good repair? Do you know?

Once upon a time, people took good care of their things, and they lasted. True, the quality of much was better, but a little care makes even the cheapest item last longer. I’ve fast-fashion shirts that are closing in on two decades. Avoid the dryer.

We should make taking care of things a priority once again. We should make longevity an important feature. We need to stop treating things like they’re disposable, cheap, expensive, or somewhere in between.

The climate certainly doesn’t appreciate our profligate ways.

Have you tried to buy a shoe polish kit of late? A sewing repair kit? Did you teach your kids how to do basic clothing repairs? Do you know how?

And don’t even bother with trying to fix most small appliances. Producers have made repairing things quite cost-inefficient.

The “everything’s replaceable” mindset is problematic in all kinds of ways. It’s an environmental nightmare, for one, and second, when we get used to disposable things, we soon get used to disposable people.

Less stuff leaves you lighter.

4 – Everything in its place

In a perfect world, I’d be rich and a California Closet-type company would turn my closets into works of semi-art, but back in the real world, I’m trying to make do with what I have. It’s a combination of philosophy and poverty.  

‘Making do’ is going to be a particular focus of mine for the next twelve months. I’ve no need, except in an emergency, to buy anything beyond food and disposable supplies for some time, a truth brought home with a thud last week.


I like a good reduce and reorganize. I like rearranging the things I have and tweaking where and how they live. I was Kondo-ing before there was a Kondo. I find this kind of lateral puttering quite calming.

Organizing things is one of my happy places. I like it when things are just-so, and I work at it, room by room, until things “feel” right.

I’m particular, I suppose. I like my clothes folded or hanging just so. I like things sorted by colour and style – shirts with shirts, and pants with pants, all lined up in rainbow precision.

I like having organized sock and underwear drawers. I like having tidy jewellery and cosmetics collections. I’m a happy camper when everything is living in its proper place. I’m a fan of clear display boxes and storage cubbies.

Happiness is a drawer organizer.

And then there’s folding.

We’re gonna need a bigger house.

5 – Folding

If you have several days of nothing to do, might I suggest a wander through the folding videos found on social media platforms?

I like a good fold. I thought I had a good folding game. My T-shirts were stacked flat. My towels stood in nice columns. The sock and underwear drawers had organizers. The pants were rolled, folded, or hung – pants are such an annoying, high-maintenance piece of clothing.

I don’t like hanging slacks much at all. Folded over the normal hanger or suspended on clips, nothing ever feels quite right. And don’t get me started on those slacks’ hangers. They’re atrocious.

And then I found folding on TikTok. Who knew I did almost all my folding incorrectly? Who knew that almost everything could be folded into a little pocket? Who knew that all towels can be spa rolls, regardless of size?

I turned my underwear into tiny pockets first. Then tank tops and t-shirts. Long-sleeved shirts are harder – I went with the file fold there. Sweaters are a different technique again. But, back to slacks.

Take your pants and lie them flat on the backside, facing up, fasteners closed. Fold both legs in half horizontally, bringing the hems up almost to the waistband. Fold the legs in half horizontally again – you now have what looks like a pair of very short shorts.

Tuck the legs in, fold what’s left in half vertically, and voila! It works for joggers, jeans, and even cargo pants. A superior folding game helps you take advantage of your available space.

A good folding game also helps you see.  


Pulling everything out to see what sparks joy makes the quantities harder to deny. Folding them in such a way that allows them to be localized in one area makes it worse.

I’m suddenly aware of how many pairs of pants I own, and how many tops. How many dresses, and how many wraps. I have a lot of everything. There is too much for one body.

There’s no occasion I can’t meet. Ski slopes, or formal dinners, I’ve got it covered. Literally.

That many of my things are gifts or second-hand purchases doesn’t negate the sheer volume. That’s why it’s best not to think too hard about the money spent.

It’s called an “envelope fold.”

6 – Too much stuff

How much is too much?

The answer to that question varies – are we talking ice cream or lettuce? Fish or Ferraris? The answer is not, however, as mysterious and subjective as we like to pretend.

I have too much stuff.

We like to feign ignorance about things. We’re fond of denial for all that we mock the ostrich. We like to pretend that we didn’t know and had no idea. Many of us act as though our life happens to us without much in the way of our involvement.

These delusions don’t serve us well – we’re the agents of our lives much of the time, especially as adults – but it’s a nice way of dodging responsibility. [2]

And who doesn’t love a good justification? It’s too bad too many tops happened to me. You have to watch out for those drive-by t-shirtings.


I used to put the majority of my clothes on hangers, but lately, I find that to be too much visual clutter. I want a simpler interface these days, so the things I’m keeping now have concealed homes. Everything needs to fit in the drawers.

I don’t like confronting the compulsive over-consumerism that my surfeit of things represents. Buying them didn’t work as advertised anyway.

You can’t buy your way happy. You can’t organize and fold your way there either, though that doesn’t prevent me from trying.


I wonder if not acquiring things over the next year will bring me happiness. It will grow my bank account a bit. It will certainly free up time, though that’s not necessarily a good thing. Shopping is a regular activity, a habit, a way to kill time.

I’ll need to find a substitute. No more buying non-essentials for a year is going to be a wrench. I need an alternative.

Change is harder to maintain if you leave a hole. Nature abhors those vacuums.

Maybe crochet?

credit: The Greely Voice

Appendix – The inventory

To firm up the “no shopping” resolution, I took a written inventory. Shopping is a way of life, so to not engage is going to be an interesting challenge. The world is designed to make (over)consumption easy.

I was a smidge shocked. That’s a lot of clothing. And the number of things I have to cover my torso with is ridiculous.

I underestimated my supply. I didn’t know my clothing numbers at all.

And yet, as I counted and recorded and recoiled, my brain had a thought:

“Perhaps more shoes? I need (would like) a nude pump.”

Bodysuits*2Sports bras*4Bras12
Underwear24Long sleeve25Short sleeve30
Tank top22Denim vest2Outdoor vest2
Faux fur vest1Moto jacket1Jean jacket2
Yoga pants6Backpacks2Shorts2
Adidas track pants2Leggins4Joggers4
Bathing suits3Bathing coverups3Socks22
Nylons & tights4Pyjamas7Robes3
Slippers2Cardigans15Skirts6
Dresses33Sweaters10Scarves/wraps16
Winter Scarves6Hats21Toques11
Ski pants2Pants (incl. Capri)12Jeans10
Spring Fall Jackets8Winter Jackets/Coat8Winter boots **1
Rain boots1*Steel toes1Heels4
Sandals3Flipflops6Shoes & Runners12
Purses12Totes 6Luggage set1

*Never worn. **Shoes are listed in pairs because that needs to be specified /s.

I did not add my totals together.

[1] The “must swim” rule is only true of a few shark species – Great White, Mako, Whale, and Hammerhead need the force of moving water over their gills. Most sharks suck water through their gills – ram ventilation versus buccal sucking.

[2] We are the agents of our free choices as much as the society we live in allows.


14 thoughts on “No more non-essential shopping.

  1. Oh, my clothing numbers are far most disgusting than yours—I desperately need to truck a good 80% to the local donation center. My issue is time—I need the time it woukd take to go through it all. I HATE starting a project that takes me weeks or months to finish because I can’t allot the proper chunk of time to get it done in one focused effort.

    Good luck on the shopping embargo—report back in a year!!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Impressive.
    Getting the stuff out and seeing all of it is overwhelming. Do you wear those dresses? I didn’t peg you as much of a dress person.
    I’m curious to see what happens within that year. I’m arriving at a similar point, but I am not as determined as you just yet. There’s an item I love and I buy whenever it tickles my fancy but have (re)discovered today that I have SO many and should stop…

    Liked by 1 person

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