Louis Vuitton Neverfull MM (Secondhand bags available here) / LOFT Top c/o — Similar here and here / Converse Sneakers c/o KicksUSA / Hudson Jeans (Super Old. Already mourning their inevitable destruction.) / Helen Ficalora Necklace c/o / J.Crew Earrings / Kate Spade Sunglasses (Old, but love this similar pair from Tory Burch and this similar pair by Ray-Ban)
I’m a very lucky girl. Through Kelly in the City, I’ve been able to work with amazing brands and take part in incredible partnerships, which–in turn–have led to a wardrobe I never dreamt of having before this blog came along.
Again, I’m very lucky.
(Thank you!)
That said, I have a tiny apartment. Like, I really can’t explain how tiny it is. It’s larger than any of my Upper East Side apartments, yes. But those were borderline-inhumane abodes. And now I have a six-foot husband. (Who’s the best!) And a dog. (Albeit a tiny little one.) And we have only two closets. (Which are no wider than three feet.) And all the stuff–from blogging as well as from our everyday lives–has a tendency to pile up quickly.
I try to stay on top of it.
Really, I do.
Wanting to consolidate and give back (and, honestly, to alleviate the feelings of guilt that come along with owning so much), I donate to students in need, give away to family and friends, sell through eBay, and return to brands. But it’s hard to stay motivated, because it takes a LOT of time. Time that could be spent elsewhere.
(Do I sound ungrateful or witchy? I hope I don’t. This isn’t actually a big problem, haha.)
Over my two years of blogging, “things” have certainly lost their value for me. In regard to this, part of me is kind of ashamed. I don’t always appreciate gifts that come in the mail or get excited over a new dress or pair of shoes like I used to before blogging. Sometimes I do, but not always.
Another part of me is happy about this, though, because stuff is simply stuff. It’s not important. And losing appreciation for it is likely a good thing, both for me as well as for my bank account.
But then I start questioning this blog. Because it has a huge focus on stuff.
Which I should address on a more regular basis. I maintain this blog as a source of inspiration only, and I hope you guys know that I’m not trying to convey some subliminal message that everyone should own a ton of material things. I wouldn’t own what I own were it not for the blog, for the brands I partner with, and for you. Because that would be silly and wasteful and perhaps even immoral. And as Mitch and I are saving, I truly put a lot of thought into the few purchases I make on my own.
Sometimes 10 years of thought, haha.
Okay. I went off on a tangent. Sorry about that. ;)
Anyway, the point of that multi-paragraph introduction was to explain that as much as I want to move large quantities of stuff from of our home, I sometimes need a little motivation. Because it’s hard work and super time-consuming! While it’s so much easier to pack it away in storage bins, it’s better for everyone–Mitch, Noodle, the recipients, and me–if it actually leaves.
To motivate myself, I set my eyes on the medium-sized Louis Vuitton Neverfull–a bag I’ve adored since my early twenties–and told myself to consolidate. I’d acquired quite a few bags over the years, a good number of which were from my early days of blogging, when I admittedly invested in my wardrobe for the sake of Kelly in the City. But truth be told, most of them were going unused, and it was time for them to find new homes.
Granted, I had a good deal of department store credit leftover from a recent freelance project that was set to expire at the end of June, which made the decision a bit easier to stomach. But in the process, I also moved a whole lot of “inventory” out of the apartment. Which felt so good. (And I’m sure Mitch and Noodle agree!)
So here it is. I own five fewer bags, and am less one department store gift card. But I love my new tote! Ironically enough, it serves as a reminder to stay on top of consumption, even if I one day have larger closets; to appreciate all that I’ve been blessed with, both in work and in real life; and to remember how far I’ve come from that wide-eyed 21-year-old who arrived in the Big Apple with a whole lot of dreams and not very much else.
Okay. Pretty cheesy.
But if nothing else, it’s sure made life in a tiny apartment a bit easier. ;)
