This is plenty

Lifestyle blog: food, minimalism, craft, design, modernism, horticulture.

[this-is-plenty]

Maintenance and repair as mindful practice

We hear a lot about mindfulness. To many I guess it is meditation and contemplation, but to me it is an active state. It is taking the things I use every day and checking them, cleaning them, maintaining and repairing them. By having these things in my hands so regularly I can know them. I can know when they are working well and when they need attention. I can appreciate them and be grateful for the role they have in my life. This extends to my clothing & shoes, kitchen utensils and knives, and my beloved sewing machines.

Know your tools. Respect and care for them. Buy the best tools you can afford and make them last. Don’t see time and wear as a sign of expiration, see it as experience. Consider your repairs with pride.

This weekend I’m doing machine maintenance, sanding and oiling wooden utensils, cleaning and oiling scissors, repairing clothing.

[this-is-plenty]

The rise in the cost of living terrifies me. There are times in my personal history, where I was living to hand-to-mouth, that this would’ve really sent me into the abyss. I’m lucky now. I’m in a stronger position and I have a lot better coping mechanisms. But what of those who are still in the position I was? I’m so scared for them.

[myrtebreit]

There are two kinds of knitters:

1. Buys yarn first and then looks for a pattern

2. Finds a pattern first and then looks for yarn

[this-is-plenty]

I’m trying to make a sewing room/studio where I can write, make, and that I can still turn into a cosy guest room, without buying loads of stuff.

The key, I think, is organisation but to keep things organised you need stuff to create categories. I’ve seen loads of great and inspirational sewing rooms/studio spaces/multifunction rooms on YouTube and Pinterest but I definitely don’t want to buy new furniture to make mine. The idea is to make, fix and alter clothing in there in order to rely less on a wasteful fashion industry so it is sort of hypocritical and against the spirit of things to buy new furniture which is made by a similarly problematic industry.

Solutions:

1. I’ve been given an old wardrobe and a shelf unit that I can make use of. The wardrobe is solid pine so strong enough to store things on top of too 👍 The shelf unit is an old IKEA kallax 2x4 with space for baskets. It’s a bit battered so I’m eventually planning on painting it.

2. I’m allowed to buy second hand furniture because it is basically recycling

3. Anything new I buy must be an investment. It must be repairable, well designed and, preferably, have multiple functions

[this-is-plenty]

I’ve had some ideas on this:

* Using old jars and takeaway food containers to organise my haberdashery. It’s not as Instagram-ready as lines of identical containers from Ikea, but it is free. I have a few containers and jars I have saved up and I have asked friends to wash and save theirs for me too. These containers are translucent, stackable and can be labelled on one end which makes them ideal for this...providing I can fit the things I need to organise into them. I’ve done Zips in size categories as they weren’t all going to fit in one, I’ve also done needles, elastics, metal fixings (like press studs, magnetic closures and hook-and-eye fastenings).

* I have got hold of some old balance scale weights to use as pattern weights. These are obsolete objects that loads of people are getting rid of. They vary in weight and quality, and some are priced a little optimistically, but if you persist, and if you trawl your local charity shops and antique shops, you’re probably going to find something interesting-looking. If they are messy give them a good going over with a wire brush and some wire wool and consider painting them.

* I’ve bought a 1960s teak sewing table. This is on wheels and I am hoping will be a useful place to store the things I need for pattern cutting and using my Singer sewing machine (both of which live in the living room) as well as my darning and knitting stuff which I tend to use on the sofa in front of the tv.

[this-is-plenty]

I’m trying to make a sewing room/studio where I can write, make, and that I can still turn into a cosy guest room, without buying loads of stuff.

The key, I think, is organisation but to keep things organised you need stuff to create categories. I’ve seen loads of great and inspirational sewing rooms/studio spaces/multifunction rooms on YouTube and Pinterest but I definitely don’t want to buy new furniture to make mine. The idea is to make, fix and alter clothing in there in order to rely less on a wasteful fashion industry so it is sort of hypocritical and against the spirit of things to buy new furniture which is made by a similarly problematic industry.

Solutions:

1. I’ve been given an old wardrobe and a shelf unit that I can make use of. The wardrobe is solid pine so strong enough to store things on top of too 👍 The shelf unit is an old IKEA kallax 2x4 with space for baskets. It’s a bit battered so I’m eventually planning on painting it.

2. I’m allowed to buy second hand furniture because it is basically recycling

3. Anything new I buy must be an investment. It must be repairable, well designed and, preferably, have multiple functions

[this-is-plenty]

Making repairs to old jeans > buying new jeans

(I need to do way more back and forth on the stitching to cover the rip, but things are definitely being learnt here)

[this-is-plenty]

What’s the average age of your stuff?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. And my conclusion is that I wish I had known to buy better things when I was younger, and to buy fewer.

I am just retiring my garlic press. It’s powder coated steel and the powder coating is breaking off. I’ve had it for 22 years, it’s seen a lot of action. But imagine if I had bought a different garlic press back then, when I was eagerly buying all sorts of things I had never used before in my life to go in my first kitchen. 

I have a lot of items like this. I still have a couple of my original saucepans – they actually weren’t bad quality, they were the best I could afford at the time. But I think I saw more as better then. I got a set of three saucepans and a sauce pan which is a lot of things to fill your first kitchen, and exactly what I wanted at the time, but imagine if I had bought one, really good pan with that money. Imagine the work it would have done and the patina it would've built!

Basically what I am saying is teach your children the value of things. Cheaper means more, but does it mean better? Does it mean good enough? I am not coming from a position of privilege here, I bought cheap stuff because that was all I could afford. But I don’t think I appreciated what that would mean about the number of times I would replace things in my life time. And how good it would feel to still have some of the original stuff. I think perhaps it’s about forming the same emotional bond with your tools as your decorative things, seeing the knife you use everyday as as important as the watch you bought for special occasions. More important, even. 

Choosing for craftsmanship, design, longevity is fundamental to my purchasing decisions now. Maybe you need that learning curve, maybe you need the knives that always dulled to appreciate the engineering that goes into a good knife, perhaps you need to scrape yourself on a broken saucepan handle a certain number of times to get that having one thing you can repair – even better, that the manufacturer will guarantee and repair for you – is better than having five that you use despite being broken. 

Maybe it was impossible for nineteen year old me to learn this lesson, perhaps it takes living it.

[this-is-plenty]

I don’t think anyone should ever underestimate the emotional toll that decluttering can take

[lets-close-the-loop]

Good morning, peeps! 🙏♥️

[this-is-plenty]

I’ve been making a quick, easy breakfast of miso soup with tofu and spring onions and it’s both the simplest thing in the world and a delicious way to start the day. Feels pretty healthy too.

[this-is-plenty]

The hardest thing about decluttering is getting rid of stuff. I don’t mean making the decision on what will stay and what will go, I think I’m doing okay on that, but the getting rid of the things that are going in these pandemic times is frustratingly slow. I’m looking for new ideas, and trying to be as careful as possible about finding new homes for things, but what I really want is for it all to be gone.

[this-is-plenty]

I mean, the amount of stuff is obscene. I just...it’s taken me twenty years to accumulate it and now I want to get rid of about 80% of it in the next six months. Why are these lessons so long and hard to learn? Why couldn’t I have figured out this stuff wouldn’t make me happy when I lived in a one bedroom flat? Ugh

[this-is-plenty]

The hardest thing about decluttering is getting rid of stuff. I don’t mean making the decision on what will stay and what will go, I think I’m doing okay on that, but the getting rid of the things that are going in these pandemic times is frustratingly slow. I’m looking for new ideas, and trying to be as careful as possible about finding new homes for things, but what I really want is for it all to be gone.

[this-is-plenty]

Use all the notebooks I have before buying new notebooks challenge

Trying to use up all the things: cosmetics, toiletries, etc. But notebooks is a big issue. I buy them for new projects, I buy them despite having other ones available. I’m calling myself out. I need to use up the notebooks.

[this-is-plenty]

Let me tell you a story that sort of encapsulates my approach to minimalism. Or, rather, is the antithesis of it.

My mum has a set of pastry beads - the kind you place in the base of a pastry case when you blind bake it to prevent the base from rising - and she keeps them in a little bag on top of a pile of plates. She uses those beads once a year, maybe. She uses the plates every day. So, every day, she lifts the bag of beads to retrieve or replace a plate. Several times a day, in fact. She insists they’re not in the way. She just lifts the top plate and slides the second and third plate out. If it was up to me, the beads would go elsewhere. They would go somewhere like a drawer or, preferably, be given to someone who actually likes to bake. Something that only gets used that infrequently just doesn’t deserve a place in a kitchen.

This is my philosophy:

1. Make the things you use everyday beautiful

2. Have those things out and have them where you need them – where you can enjoy them aesthetically, and where they will get used and washed and used and washed frequently. Decorative, little-used items gather dust. Decorative used-every-day items never get the chance.

3. Make life easy for yourself. Don’t put an unnecessary obstacle in the way to slow down a task you perform multiple times a day, every day. This includes repairing things promptly, keeping your functional objects and tools in good working, and not having a bag of ceramic beads sitting on a pile of plates.

[this-is-plenty]

Two types of minimalism

Unsubscribing from marketing emails and turning off all but the most essential notifications on my phone has been an absolute life saver in these times.

It’s probably the thing that’s been most instrumental in my reduced spending plan. That and digging out an old kakeibo journal from 2018 and finally using it.

Sales and offers out of sight = good

Money out of sight = less so

My tips for a digital declutter: just unsubscribe from each email as it arrives. Doing everything in one go is cathartic but daunting – and an unnecessary mental barrier for yourself – so take it an email at a time. Some days I get no emails at all and those days are *chefs kiss*

By spending a few moments each week logging my spending I am able to be aware of where my money is going in a way that I have never really mastered. If you’re good at tracking your spending, well done. Don’t buy a kakeibo journal – it’ll feel like a complete waste of money. But if, like me, making a small ritual of logging spending and paying bills is a useful method of staying on top of your money then go for it. Having a physical item on my desk to remind me to do this thing is so valuable. My book was less than £10 and it’ll help me track my spending for twelve months.

Minimalism isn’t always the reduction of stuff or the distillation of process, sometimes it’s just finding a simple, solid solution that works for you.

[this-is-plenty]

“They’re only small, why don’t you keep them?”

A friend said this to me last night when I asked if she wanted some saga form cups and saucers I’m getting rid of. Her argument was that they are nice. Which they are. And that they are small. Which they are. But this is death by a thousand cuts. If everything that was small and nice but not essential, not of significant emotional value or use was to stay, I would find myself exactly where I am now - inundated. 

Things that stay must be useful. They must do their job well and, preferably, be attractive. 

[this-is-plenty]

Things are not made less beautiful by appreciating them more. Buy well, use carefully, and take care of your things. Learn to maintain them, repair them, and enjoy a life-long relationship with your objects.

I watched a YouTube video the other day about decorating tiny spaces. I’m always looking for ideas and seeing what other people have done is helpful. The advice in the video was to keep beautiful things out on display and to keep the more everyday things tucked away.

I think this is the exact opposite to my philosophy. 

In a tiny space, everyday stuff should be beautiful and hard-working and out on view. This is the stuff you need to hand, the stuff that gets used and washed and returned to its shelf or hook (and helps to avoid the build up of dust and grease which therefore reduces cleaning – bonus). 

I don't believe in ‘just for show’ stuff. That the nicest, most expensive things you own are rarely used is nonsensical to me. Guests are not the only ones who deserve to see your fine china, or whatever, and for so many items, it is in use that their beauty shines through. Everyday is best. Every day is a gift and you should celebrate it with your nice china and your good watch and whatever finery you usually reserve for occasions which rarely happen. Newness will fade, sure, but when that is replaced by the patina of daily life you add your own narrative to an object. How wonderful.