How to organize and repurpose a closet: more sustainable thoughts about clothes

Make a wear-again pile

I know people who have indoor clothes and outdoor clothes. I know people who can’t stand to wear an item more than once. I get it, but I also know that my clothes often aren’t that dirty, and if I halve the number of times it goes through the laundry, my clothing will last longer. Also, of course, I’ll have to spend less time and water doing loads of laundry.

One way I manage this is by carefully organizing all of my clothes. Almost universally, in my closet and dresser, I’ve developed a system where once-worn items move to the right stack/spot. Items just out of the laundry get placed far to the left. In spaces like my T-shirt drawer, that means I can easily identify which shirts will go into the laundry after one more use, as well as which shirts I haven’t worn in the longest amount of time (the second-to-the-right pile). It’s helpful for being thoughtful about using, keeping, or donating all my clothes when I have such physical evidence of which items I haven’t reached for in the longest time. (This is a handy space to bring up my previous post about using all the items in my closet.)

Repurpose clothes that don’t fit in

Sometimes that entails an aesthetic change as things stop fitting with my wardrobe, and sometimes an item has become too worn to continue being used as it has been. There are a few options I consider as part of doing this:

1. Can an item be mended? Patched, darned, hemmed, you name it. I am certainly not an expert, but I am trying to learn, and simple fixes are worth it if they allow you to keep an item you love in use. I hate retiring something I like just because it’s developed a hole. Plus, if the hole means it’s destined for the trash anyway, what’s the harm at giving mending a shot? There’s never a downside to asking a tailor what they think, either. Or maybe you know a friend who can teach you some tricks?
2. Can an item I don’t love become pajamas or exercise clothes? Baggy shirts with logos are my favorite PJs; they’re comfy and logos I wouldn’t wear in public are great around the house. (This isn’t a dig on logos but rather a comment on my fashion choices.) Sometimes freebie T-shirts I get at events immediately become PJs; sometimes shirts that no longer fit my aesthetic move that way. Regardless, it’s the easiest way to continue valuing the resources and labor that went into producing that item.
3. To add the past two points together: sometimes a super soft, comfy shirt will get a hole that can’t be unobtrusively repaired, and I’ll turn it into PJs. Now that I’m trying to mend, I’m doing this less, but some of my favorite pajamas started this way.
4. Can I turn the shirt into a craft project? This definitely depends on the shirt’s material; synthetics usually won’t hold up as well as natural fabrics, like cotton. If you are mending, you need some fabric scraps around that you can cut into patches (patches should match the type of fabric they’re being sewn to). If you’re attached to some shirts, you could consider a T-shirt quilt, which is a long-term project I’m hoping to do one day. Maybe you have shirts that could be tie-dyed. Maybe you’re interested in experimenting with those Tik-Tok hacks of cutting strips of fabric and knotting them to transform the shirt into a fun, summer look. Maybe you’d just like it better if you took fabric scissors and cut off the sleeves to create a relaxed tank top. Any aesthetic changes you can make that could transform an item you dislike back into an item you enjoy are usually worth trying, especially if your alternate plan is tossing the item. (As a note: plenty of donated clothing becomes trash if it’s damaged, resale shops are overstocked, or it doesn’t sell. Keeping and transforming your clothes is often better than hoping someone else will like them.)
5. Since I’ve brought up donations, I also have a confession: I have a box under my bed of clothes that don’t fit. Just one box; it’s mostly jeans with handwritten notes reading “too large/small at x lbs” stuck in their pockets. Again, this may not be practical for people in confined living spaces, but I try to be realistic that my weight fluctuates within a couple pounds every year or two. Unless I’m sure I won’t fit an item again, it seems okay to me to add or remove a pair of jeans to continue taking advantage of what I already own. If I had more faith that these items would sell secondhand, maybe I’d donate them, but it’s reassuring to not spend a bunch of money when my weight swings up a couple pounds.
6. Everyone needs rags. Literally. I’m not saying swear off paper towels–goodness knows, I can’t–but rags are great for dusting, for cleaning up spills, you name it. You might need good, sharp fabric scissors or pinking shears to cut your shirts to an appropriate size, but rags are an excellent choice to re-use any and all clothing you’re ready to toss. I had embraced turning clothes that were beyond saving into rags before I bought a book on mending and started trying to learn. Part of why I’ve darned so many socks is the abundance of socks with holes I’ve already designated as rags. Personally, I don’t mind gathering a pile of used rags and doing a rags-only laundry load periodically; I believe that, so long as that load is as large as I can make it, that extra water use is still more environmentally thoughtful than generating more landfill.

And there you have it: a bunch of ideas for repurposing clothing that isn’t working for you anymore. I have tried to pour just about all my remaining, miscellaneous ideas into this one post, but if you haven’t read my thoughts on utilizing your closet, visiting thrift stores, and shopping online, those will flesh out my perspective. I’m sure people have differing opinions to mine, but I hope this collection of posts offered some new ideas about how to approach and enjoy your closet! I’d like to leave you with a recommendation of an excellent podcast episode I listened to recently, The Problem with Fast Fashion with Aja Barber from For Colored Nerds. If these posts are sharing my perspective, that episode adds depth, statistics, and politics to the conversation.

Frills, fans, flowers, and ciphers: Enola Holmes, book vs. film

The second Enola Holmes film recently released, so I finally got around to something that had been niggling at me, which was to re-visit the book series and compare it with the (first) movie. Now, I have long suspected that Millie Bobby Brown took her favorite fictional character, said “I want to play her,” and pitched Netflix to make it happen. As well it should! I loved that movie! Yet it’s obvious that the first film–or maybe both of them–took elements from multiple books and transformed them into a film-worthy plot.

If you are unaware, the Enola Holmes series follows the much-younger sister of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes. Created by Nancy Springer, Enola has been raised in a free-spirited, “wild child” methodology that leads her to a general disregard for the gender norms and expectations for young women, yet allows her considerable intelligence to flourish. When her mother disappears and her much-older brothers propose to send her to finishing school, Enola chooses to go off by herself and, instead of finding her mother, stumbles upon a different missing-person mystery. Nancy Springer remains a childhood favorite of mine, from her Rowan Hood: Outlaw Girl of Sherwood Forest books (the rest of which I hope to someday find in a used book store), and I curiously picked up an Enola Holmes a few years ago. I’m delighted to see it’s grown into a fairly serious (read: numerous) series.

As I read, I couldn’t help but think of various film adaptations of Holmes I’ve recently seen; Holmes in Springer’s books comes closer to Basil Rathbone than the recent Benedict Cumberbatch or Robert Downey Jr. versions. I say that partly due to his empathy and largely because Rathbone’s serialized films present the viewer with Holmes’ evidence and thought process, rather than the current tendency to reserve information for the deduction-driven climax. The most alike Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing of those three, it is that same sharing of information and bamboozlement that makes Enola such an engaging protagonist. We always know what she knows, so as Enola goes about seeking missing people, we follow hand-in-hand, trying to put together the pieces. Enola therefore falls into the tradition of the original Irene Adler, the only person to outsmart Holmes in the books–and a woman, no less! Both Irene and Enola herself offer commentaries on the sexist (Victorian) tendency to underestimate women, allowing the reader to cheer them on as they prove the fatal flaw of Holmes’ seemingly unbeatable logic.

Springer sets the (1889?) stage more with clothes than any other scenery, detailing her heroine’s clever disguises and the class-reliant assumptions they provoke as Enola traverses London. Throughout the book series, she plays the role of several individuals, using their varying degrees of influence–and varying personas–to gather the information she requires. Intelligent and generous, Enola acts more mature than her 14 years, hiding from her brothers as they attempt to “do what’s best for her.” The idea that a woman lacks the intelligence to decide her own future is openly spoken, yet Springer addresses and refutes this paternalistic view (it is Victorian London, after all). As the series continues, it’s exciting to see the resources and costumes Enola builds for herself to survive London.

At first, the differences between the first novel’s plot and the Netflix film struck me. Then I noticed all the similar moments, directly inspired by Springer’s vision. A greater degree of thematic unity comes through in the flower language of the movie, as well as its recurring gags. However, the film recasts Enola as a perfectly-prepared, well-rounded, multi-talented pseudo-spy; I am reminded of Alex Rider in Stormbreaker. The combat training so prevalent in the film never happens in the book. Instead, we see an everyday, clever, problem-solving Enola. Any girl could read herself in Enola, whose main distinguishing feature seems her free, adventurous spirit. She has spent time rambling outdoors, educating herself in whatever catches her attention, and cracking wordplay and text-centric codes (not as emphasized in the visual medium of film). She gets by with her wits and playing off of others’ limited expectations. Frankly, the character transformation into a film protagonist reminds me also of the adaption of Ella Enchanted: a girl whose strength came from kindness, care, and intelligence becomes a “not like other girls” persona there, too. (Enola, at least, never is described or compared so explicitly. Thank goodness.)

Watching numerous clothing historians and historic dress aficionados, I have learned that many stereotypes we hold around corsets and historic women’s dress are simply that: stereotypes. The misery of tight-lacing a corset seems much more satirical than historically accurate. The hourglass ideal, though desirable, often came about through clothing trickery (or photo manipulation) instead of physical discomfort. By this I mean: adding flourishes at the hips or over the posterior to create a more dramatic indentation at the waist without forcing the woman into restrictive clothes. Springer seems to have embraced a specific concept of corsets, bustles, bust enhancers, and the like; while her writing celebrates certain elements and bemoans others, those might stem from a subtly “newer is better” mentality instead of lining up with actual, historical complaints about female dress. Bernadette Banner’s YouTube channel has also made multiple videos debunking the “inability to be physically active” stereotype and portrayal of historic clothing, although I think Enola’s ability to fight does a decent job of conveying the same.

Enola’s greatest act of independence comes from subverting others’ expectations by embracing her own womanhood. As a deeply tomboyish girl, she chooses the trappings of femininity as her best disguise.

Unsurprisingly, the movie chooses to give Lord Tewksbury a much greater role than the book. It helps narrate a story that, in text, featured character development, strategizing, and plot revelations primarily from the privacy of Enola’s head. Tewky becomes a much more likeable character in the film and, in many ways, plays an entirely different role within the structure of the plot. It is interesting that the first film depicts a running gag of Enola dressing as a boy while the book series makes it abundantly clear that she will never stoop to disguise herself so.

Reading The Missing Marquess, it’s clear to me that I enjoy both interpretations of Enola in similarly strong but very different ways. I am extremely hopeful a third film will round out her story; equally, between the first draft of this review and publishing it, I have borrowed all 8 books from the library. Springer paints a portrait of London with both dazzling cityscapes and intense poverty; I support introducing young readers to both identities of the city. In many ways, I find Enola’s world a lovely work of historical fiction as well as an excellent introduction to the iconic Sherlock Holmes for a young reader.

4 ways to be thoughtful about drains

1. Use a drain catcher

I can’t show a picture of this, because it looks gross, but you know those shiny metal things you’re supposed to use in your sink to catch and trash any food products? They’re mesh and fit around your drain. Well, anyway, I have one in my shower. You always lose hair in your shower, especially if you’re a long-haired person, and that can add up into a problematic drainage situation. I grew up in an old home with old pipes, so I learned to be careful about how much hair was going down the drain, since no one wanted to cut open the wall to replace those pipes. This isn’t the only type of drain catcher, but it’s easily found and effective; I leave it in my bathtub and clean off the accumulated hair every few days. I’ve learned to regularly stick it in a pail and scrub it with baking soda, vinegar, and an old toothbrush (and then dump that schmutz down the toilet, the pipe least likely to be stopped up). All of this is to say: sometimes sustainability isn’t pretty, but it’s always about preserving what you’ve got, including your home.

2. Put citrus peels down the disposal

Anytime you cook with citrus, save those peels for the last item to go down your disposal. I’ve seen places that sell lemon-, lime-, or orange-scented things to put down your disposal and make it smell better; just use the real thing, ok? You’ll save money by not buying something extra and you’ll keep your kitchen smelling fresh and clean. I know disposals are relatively incompatible with composting (although the foodstuffs you can put in each don’t fully overlap), but it’s always good to know how to use them.

3. Snake the drain

If you don’t know what I mean by this, snaking the drain is one way to un-stop your drains (usually sinks) by sticking a long piece of hooked plastic down the pipes to push stuck pieces and/or pull out clumps that are causing blockages. It’s a small, logical thing, and maybe something you already know, but it makes me happy to do. Yeah, sure, I’ll use paper towels and cleaning products to get this stuff off the snake, but that’s a pretty minimal amount of waste to solve the problem.

4. Baking soda and vinegar, first

I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t own Drano, because I do, but now I try to hold off on that chemical solution until after I’ve both snaked the drain and poured baking soda and vinegar down there. Pro tip: if you’re generous with the baking soda, you can keep adding vinegar bit by bit and listening to the sizzle of its reaction for, I dunno, half an hour? Longer than my patience, at least. Baking soda and vinegar stereotypically clean everything in a low-waste home, and for good reason: the chemical reaction effectively releases caked-on grime and gunk, so long as you use it on hard surfaces like porcelain or steel that resist that cleaning fizz. Dumping it into the sink and down the drain, therefore, often helps loosen anything gathering in the pipes. I’d also mention that it’s cheaper to buy bulk amounts of baking soda and vinegar than chemical products like Drano, and this kind of change could save money in the long run.

Source.

My new gaming obsession: Marvel SNAP!

I’ve recently become infatuated with Marvel SNAP, a mobile card game available for free wherever you get your local smartphone apps. I heard about this back before it came out, when Disguised Toast streamed and promoted it (and got paid handsomely, I assume, and good for him). It features virtual “cards” starring many of the expanse of Marvel characters, heroes and villains, with powers and abilities roughly inspired by their comic-origin abilities.

Having played Hearthstone in the past, I knew these large and popular card video games could be overwhelming. Hearthstone requires layering your cards’ abilities as they fight your opponent’s forces on the field. Round by round, much as other games like Yu-Gi-Oh!, Pokémon, or Magic the Gathering function, you prepare your forces as best you can and send them out.

I enjoyed the strategy of Hearthstone. I enjoyed learning what various cards would do and understanding their interaction. But I struggled with how much there was to learn, and more than that, how to create decks of cards that best utilized these combined abilities. With so many names and details, it was easy to forget something. Frustratingly, in play, I constantly found my plans disrupted as my opponent attacked and eliminated my cards.

Marvel SNAP improves on the knowledge and investment required of this tired formula. It focuses on brevity, with clear, simple descriptions for each card and terrain. The characters you play don’t attack each round; instead, their combined forces add and multiply, with whoever scores highest winning a location at the end of the match (6 rounds).

The creative team subdivided that singular, interlocking field of play into three, allowing parallel strategies and combinations to flourish. Each randomized location where your characters fight impacts their abilities in some way: sometimes they get weaker, sometimes they’re twice as strong, sometimes they get a strength bonus when Stark Tower lights up. The wide variety of terrains and their effects change gameplay of a single deck drastically between matches. If I paid more attention to the comic universe, I’m sure I’d recognize more of these locations and why their effects are what they are, but the strategic impact of pairing zone and character provides an exciting challenge regardless. 

I cannot write this without acknowledging that a huge component of a game such as this comes from the creators. It is their decisions about how play occurs that create a competition where both sides feel an equal chance of winning. It is their analysis that leads to concise, clear card descriptions and balanced card abilities. Frankly, by deciding to divide the combat into three zones, the developers designed a scenario where–almost always–you’ve won somewhere. Your goal is to win at least 2 of the 3 locations. Sometimes you’ll lose with 1 of 3, but this softens the sting of defeat. These factors build a game that becomes simultaneously simple to learn, a fair test of skill, understandable as you advance, and invigorating.

The game opens with a helpful tutorial and provides a starting deck that’s not too shabby. Of the many collectible cards, the tutorial gifts you a moderate number, and since decks in gameplay are comprised of only 12 cards, there’s flexibility to design your own deck even before you progress and earn new characters.

On top of all this, Marvel goes into this venture with huge advantages. Deep coffers so no need to run ads. Already-iconic characters fans will want to play. Vast worldbuilding, locations, and established personae to draw from.

While this game is obviously child-friendly, I believe it was intended for adults. The generation that grew up collecting Pokémon cards–the originals of which, in good condition, can be worth thousands of dollars today–is now in their 30s, or rapidly approaching it. SNAP takes advantage of this childhood nostalgia by featuring plenty of alternate artwork and card designs for users to pursue. They allow you to level cards up, which mostly makes them look fancier. An entire subset of the game encourages admiring various artists’ styles and interpretations of these same characters, with the goal of achieving a special, sparkly virtual card to show off.

Thinking about it, by creating this game Marvel definitely has made their characters much more recognizable, and much easier to pair with their names–at least, to me.

Overall, while I would never recommend a game that didn’t grab you in the slightest, Marvel SNAP is a much more interesting, fun, and engaging game than the majority of mobile options. Personally, I’m loving it. I love the 3-minute games (easy to pick up and put down); I love the card descriptions (trust me, clarity is huge); I love feeling like I’m capable of putting a deck together and seeing it do great things. If you like card games, check it out!

Below, I’m including a screenshot of one of the finished games I’m proud of. You’re welcome to say “oh, pretty colors” and move on, or read my description of what happened below.

See that Ka-Zar card on the bottom left? That card gives a +1 power to every card that cost 1 energy. You can think of energy like money: you have $1 on your 1st turn, $2 on your 2nd turn, $3 on your 3rd, etc. Apportion it between character energy costs as you will.

In this deck, I have as many 1-energy creatures as I can, because Ka-Zar makes them all stronger. The entire deck is built around him.

Now, the terrains gave me distinct bonuses in this match, too–both The Hood and the Devil are 1-cost cards randomly generated. But Ka-Zar, with his +1 doubled to +2 by the Onslaught’s Citadel terrain, is affecting eight other cards on the board. Truly, it was a lucky match for me, to win all three zones.

I corked a corkboard of corks

I made a corkboard out of corks! After ages of saving corks and then wondering why I was holding on to them, I have created something lovely. As with so many objects, I started thinking, “hm, I bet there’s some way to reuse or repurpose this into something cool.” Researching cork projects was unsatisfying (curse you, five minute crafts!) until I stumbled across this:

Having seen this video and decided, “eh, seems doable,” I set about looking for a frame shape I liked. Actually framing a corkboard of corks seemed tonally mismatched, in my mind, so I decided to use the frame as a guideline, instead: I cut a piece of posterboard that would fit within the frame, so I could flip it out and have a floating corkboard once I was done gluing. I wanted the aesthetic of an arrangements of corks on the wall, but I wasn’t going to pretend a collection of corks were fancy, and that’s what attaching the frame would have implied, to me. Bonus: this way I can repeat this project with exactly the same dimensions!

I initially laid my corks out in a very regular and boring pattern of stripes, simply to get a sense of how they’d fit within the frame I chose. It was not a particularly inspiring look, and I seriously doubted my dedication to this project. However, my lovely, artistic mom was assisting as I worked, and she redesigned this corkboard in a much more eclectic, random, and playful pattern.

We had already experimented with carefully using a saw to cut corks in half, both widthwise and lengthwise. However, it seemed far too much work to cut each cork, individually, lengthwise. Widthwise, however, we discovered these fun disks that could be added into our layout, sometimes with an extra dash of artwork or design. Choosing the most interesting wine corks became the best element of the project. So many vineyards display their artistry or graphic design on this small canvas, and it was a pleasure to showcase that. I was arranging and rearranging right up until I laid the last stripe of hot glue.

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Now, I recognize that creating art of corks has a college student vibe to it. A broke vibe, perhaps. (Broke vs environmentalist: what’s the difference?)(That was a joke.) Regardless, I did not believe a display piece would be showcased in my home, and I wanted to create something useful. I have grown to really enjoy corkboards. Throughout my life and my travels, I’ve collected quite a few postcards, pins, and thoughtful sayings. I fully intend to use this space to embrace displaying those memories and motivations.

I (and so many others) have observed that actual wine bottle corks, made out of cork, are increasingly replaced by plastic. There’s something about cork itself that feels innately full of possibilities, and that’s why I started saving these wine stoppers. Yes, I did sort the plastic corks out from the cork corks upon starting this project, and yes, about a third of my corks were accidentally plastic ones. However, actual corks remind me of something of the essence of childhood–painting the corks and gluing hair onto them to create your own dolls, perhaps, or tying them together and experimenting with how a raft bobs down a creek. In my family, I always smelled the cork of a freshly-opened bottle of wine, even as a young kid. My parents would joke, “do you think it’s a good bottle?” I felt that the extra effort of creating something from the corks was well worth the memories and nostalgia that those wine corks could bring.

Using a hot glue gun to attach these corks to my posterboard was easy. I took breaks to rearrange and swap corks as I went. I carefully oriented each cork to its most aesthetic, interesting, or memorable side before adding any glue. I found myself considering not only the length of each cork  but also the width, which frequently varied over a single cork and necessitated flipping them around to create straighter lines. To balance the size of the board, I did cut two corks shorter to fit into a tight spot. I frequently experience anxiety around projects like this–what if I mess it up?–and yet I was pleased by how simple and fulfilling it was to attach all these corks and see my mental image become permanent.

Admittedly, upon hanging the board on the wall with Velcro command strips, one cork popped off and I re-glued it. I leave it to time and use to determine how durable this corkboard proves to be; it may become simply an aesthetic piece.

I write all this not to encourage sustainability but to share a cool project. I’m happy I made it! I’m happy I entirely used things I already owned; I’m happy I could repurpose something that’s often trash; I’m happy with how this corkboard came out. I think its eclectic, mismatched vibe looks cool, and I want to share that with the world, in case anyone else chooses to make something like this. It was very easy, and I’ve laid out all the steps, above, as clearly as I could. Not every DIY has to be an intimidating re-finish of furniture from the side of the road; feel free to create in your own eco-conscious way on a much smaller scale! I wish you a creative week.

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Organize sustainably: notes on the Ink+Volt and Wisdom Supply Co. planners

Last January, I wrote about sustainable planners: what to look for in a company, what I had used, and a few suggestions I’d cobbled together for paper planners, if you wanted a different aesthetic than I did. With another new year passing–how fast time flies!–I felt it was time to re-visit those thoughts. If you haven’t read that previous post, you may want to, as I’m trying to avoid repeating myself.

First things first: I’ve been using the Ink+Volt planner for a year. I still love how sturdy and reliable it feels. The design is quite different than what I’ve used in the past, and I want to highlight some of my favorite elements of it.

At the beginning of the book, there’s a “Timeline” page. It’s a full spread of dotted pages, with “January” at its left and “December” at its right. This page? Honestly a game changer. I divided the columns and noted each month along that line. I’ve never created a calendar like this before, but even in January I was able to sit down and write travel plans for the entire year. I knew about weddings I would attend (yay, covid vaccines!), as well as typical holiday travel and the like. It meant that, early on, I could chart how much vacation time would be required, and when, and how much was still unaccounted for and flexible after all those plans.

The biggest advantage of this was the following: after sketching out all of these preexisting commitments, I looked at the timeline and thought, “this is the extra time I have. When or where do I want to spend it?” It was extremely helpful in the first half of the year for planning how to space out my travel. I could spread out weekends away or choose a larger trip in the spring without worrying about sacrificing time at Thanksgiving.

I also adore the many blank pages at the back of this planner. I use them to list loved ones’ birthdays, to keep track of things for the coming year(s), to note when I’m due for doctor’s appointments, and for other miscellany.

On a more day-to-day basis, the Ink+Volt planner did not, necessarily, end up as the right vibe for me. I’d hesitated before purchasing it, and I should have trusted my own self-knowledge. Unlike previous planners, in which I would flip back and forth between a monthly calendar page and a weekly task page, this design had me flipping between four different pages: a monthly calendar, a monthly to-do/habit/goals list, a weekly to-do/reflection list, and a weekly schedule page. It wasn’t organized in a way that worked for me. I want to say it was too much, because I would not and did not flip between all those pages. I’d write the monthly to-do goals and not reference them; I wouldn’t bother checking the weekly schedule and would miss texting friends on their birthdays.

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Personally, I think this has a lot to do with how my brain functions around organizational systems: sub-dividing so many elements onto so many pages simply means I’m going to forget to check everything. It feels a lot like organizing your home: are you someone who loves small boxes full of stuff hidden behind closed cabinet doors, or do you want everything visible on shelves in the open? I’ve actually heard about this through Clutterbug’s framework of an x + y graph, with the two scales being 1. whether something is visible or hidden from sight and 2. how subdivided the organization gets. Knowing how I like my apartment, I’m not surprised that this planner ended up unsuited to my brain.

Ink+Volt’s planner is hailed as a goal-oriented, effective organizational tool. That’s what all the reviews highlight: goals, achievements, breaking things down, I don’t really know, y’all. When I bought it, I was ambitious. I said as much in my blog post a year ago. I was feeling good, I was hopeful, I was into the idea of new things and new me in a new year. (What are the bets I fall victim to that trap again?) Anyway, there ended up being a few problems with this hope.

I’ve spread myself over so many formats that I didn’t need a planner able to centralize so much. First off, I already use a habit tracker on my phone. I like having a place to check off the daily, boring, but still important tasks I have to do, like washing dishes. Secondly, I keep a long-term to-do list that I re-write once a year or so, filled with vague and annoying tasks that don’t have strict deadlines. If I find myself avoiding something or unable to deal with it anytime soon, I’ll add it there and hope I get to it eventually. This covers anything from projects around my apartment to downloading CDs onto my laptop. Thirdly, I already have a journal. I have a dedicated space to hand-write stuff going on in my life or in my head, if I need to reflect. In fact, I even (fourthly) have a separate gratitude book that I keep by my bed, in which I try to write a few things I’m grateful for and a few I’m proud of every night. Those types of reflection? Already covered, not needed in a planner.

Fifthly, I have too many calendars. I use Google calendars for a lot of my scheduling, especially while out and about: appointments, time with friends, and recurring activities I’d like to remember, like farmer’s markets. I also have a shared wall calendar that helps coordinate activities within my household. Already, I have to regularly check those two against each other to be sure I haven’t forgotten anything. When I used my planner as my main calendar or in conjunction with my phone, it was effective; now, my planner is the oft-forgotten last option that I forget to check and forget to keep up to date. Do I have a solution to this? No. Is it one reason this planner is less effective? You bet.

As an aside: writing all this out, I wonder if I need to consolidate these spread-out formats some. I am stubborn, but I would listen to your suggestions–and, worse case, maybe I know the subject of my January 2024 blog post.

The Ink+Volt planner encourages achieving goals by building small, daily habits, or doing a little of something each day. Each month asks you to plan a daily task and then gives a space to mark off each day you successfully do it. Their website offers resources to help set these kinds of goals, but I stopped filling out this page after a couple months. Again: I’d forget to check it; I’d note actual or aspirational daily habits on my phone; and I’d struggle to come up with a daily goal or plan that felt plausible, achievable, and realistic. I absolutely think I could have done a better job taking advantage of Ink+Volt’s resources to break down goals or their pensive questions for reflection. I will admit: the writing prompts each week in this planner seem interesting, and while I wasn’t in the mind-space to write about those questions this year, I may return to it for thoughtful questions in the future.

Unless you’re already good at incorporating small, daily habits, you might find that a journal focused on those is aspirational but not realistic for you. In fact, you might discover–as I did–that this emphasis becomes rather disheartening and contributes to negativity within yourself. Don’t hope something that worked for someone else will work for you.

Having listed a bunch of reasons why the Ink+Volt planner did not work for me, what am I choosing for 2023? The Wisdom Supply Co. planner. I expressed how much I liked the design last year; I still feel drawn to its layout. It looks easy to flip to the correct page; I’d only alternate between one monthly spread and one weekly spread; it allows me to write a to-do list or reflection page as I want. As I said before, the format seems to encourage certain methods from the flexibility of a bullet journal with just enough structure for me. The only downside I see is that I have to buy an 8.5 x 11 format, and even then, they do now offer a smaller size–I simply don’t like the design as much. Will I like their planner? I hope so. I’ll let you know.

As for a few first impressions, I admire their birthdays and important dates page, which I find so logical for how I will use the planner. I’m appreciating the tear-off corner to help me easily find my place and the vast possibilities of these nearly-blank pages. If I do choose to consolidate some of those five organizational systems here, I have the flexibility to do so.

If you don’t like either of these options–or any of the suggestions I made last year–here are a couple other sustainable planners you could check out. Neither of them are Certified B Corporations, as Wisdom Supply Co. is, but they seem mindful of their impact. If you’re curious what a B Corp certification entails, you can read its website (or a summary here), or accept my vague simplification: B Certification means an exterior entity (B Lab) has examined the processes, materials, and inner workings of a company, and found it meets their particular, evolving standards. It requires transparency on the company’s part, as well as commitment to not just responsible environmental practices but also fair wages on an ongoing basis.

The Komorebi Luxe Planners, made from FSC Certified paper, are an Australian brand with gorgeous and all-encompassing organizational tools. Flipping through their layouts, I can see spaces for tracking nutrition and exercise; budgeting; goal-setting; habit-building; reflection; and all the standard, to-do vibes expected of a planner. If you want an all-in-one option, this could work for you.

Ponderlily seems to make lovely, gratitude- and reflection-centric planners. They claim their “products are printed on recycled paper, with vegetable-based inks,” and also cite their REACH compliant materials. For someone focused more on mindfulness and less on trying to improve themself, this could be an excellent planner.

I’d also encourage browsing etsy, where you will find products that, if not absolutely sustainably produced, will at least support independent artists and creatives.

Good luck with a creative, busy, productive, reflection- and gratitude-filled New Year!

2022 reflections: looking back at the fullness and connection of my year

The Financial Diet posted an end-of-year Instagram quote that suggested, in part, “write a list of every little thing you did this year that meant something to you–a trip you took somewhere new, a new job, or even trying a new form of exercise for the first time.” Last year, the idea of resolutions mostly stung me, whenever I felt I wasn’t succeeding at them, even knowing I have a hard time setting attainable goals. This year, I’d like to share some things I did and remind myself how full and enjoyable I found my time.

I traveled what seemed a lot this year. After sticking around home (mostly) for two years, I attended four weddings or belated wedding receptions. On top of that, I traveled multiple times to visit grandparents, managing to finagle at least some of the travel into seeing new places, meandering new museums, and hiking new paths. I spent a few other weekends away with friends, which were each extremely fulfilling in their own way.

I can look back over my calendars of the year and find many instances of valuable time with friends, including long-distance, time-zone or ocean-crossing zoom calls; movies together, either virtually or at theaters; and hosting individuals or large groups for hang-outs, potlucks, dinner parties, and tabletop or board game nights.

This year, I spent quite a while with family, and I recognize the effort I made (in travel, in texting, in showing up) to demonstrate how much I value those bonds. I am very lucky to be a part of families that, more or less, all like each other. Not just love, but enjoy each others’ presence. I would be remiss to reflect on this year and not remember how much those relationships impacted me.

I am proud of my space. My apartment this year stayed clean and tidy, mostly, and I brought in new furniture, hung art, and reorganized the space in small ways that nonetheless have made it a more comfortable, more effective space. I write this knowing more tasks in that vein exist on my to-do list; I look forward to the satisfaction of my space becoming more efficient.

Activities that stood out this year included seeing one of my favorite bands perform live; regular sessions of two different Dungeons and Dragons games with close friends; an online investing course to try to actually understand money; attending art festivals to see amazing creations; and seeing live theater.

Giving myself permission to be creative felt like my most impactful change this year. While it brought my greatest moments of satisfaction, it also highlighted my deepest insecurities. This blog provides an excellent example: after at least a year of considering returning to this space, I’ve posted 16 times this year. Certainly that’s fewer than the weekly posts I hoped to write last January, but I’ve gotten back into the swing of writing and editing and forming an argument, and 16 is more than none. I’m proud of what I’ve put out on this blog over the past year, and eager to share my in-progress drafts in 2023.

As another example, I periodically pulled out watercolors, or origami, or other small artistic hobbies. Messing around without an expectation of perfection or excellence offered an enjoyable activity throughout the year, and I choose to be happy about what I did, instead of sad I didn’t do more.

One “resolution” of 2022 involved learning to mend some of my clothes. While I haven’t made the T-shirt quilt I hope to someday create, I have sewn regularly and repaired a number of items.

I also set myself a goal of watching 26 movies that I hadn’t seen before. I’m predisposed to re-watch old favorites, but that’s not always what I want. I track films on letterboxd; I’ve seen 23 new movies this year, not counting stand-up comedy specials, etc. While I arguably missed my goal by a few films, I’m satisfied that setting the intention contributed to my watching more than I would have, a different year.

My intention to read 78 books this year also came to fruition. I hit a total of 84 books. Note that some of these were re-reads, and some were graphic novels. I write this because, frankly, I feel accomplished–and I need to remember the accomplishment of setting a reasonable goal and hitting it when I feel like I haven’t read in a while. (Yes, I still feel that too.)

On a private note, I would comment that I’ve done a reasonable job of taking care of myself this year, in regards to doctors and suchlike–not as good as I hoped, but not as poorly as could have happened. I also began trying to return to other forms of exercise I’ve enjoyed in the past, which made me extremely happy, when I managed to do so. I am optimistic about my ability to continue caring for myself this way in the future.

While I initially expected to write this list in a journal, with some more specifics and a little more detail, this blog feels like a major element of that list, and it seemed reasonable to share the fullness of my year. Perhaps you, too, can look back and write a list of what you’ve done this year. You may find more joyful memories and happiness than you expect.

Happy new year!

Gift wrapping: the easiest change for the holiday season

Gift-giving, as a sustainable action or a love language or a complicated balance between showing affection and fulfilling someone’s needs, simply overwhelms me. At times I find the perfect gift and excitedly purchase months in advance; other times, I can’t bear the pressure of expectation and obligation. I have nothing to contribute to a conversation about eco-minimalism and consumerist holidays. However, I have been dwelling on a lovely New York Times article about good gifts, and what makes them “good,” that I found so valuable I want to share.

With that said, I have opinions on gift-wrapping. I believe I can save a few bucks by re-using or re-purposing instead of buying rolls of wrapping paper or piles of gift bags. Undoubtedly, these actions generate less visible, single-use trash or recycling. What I’m about to suggest seems quite easy for anyone to do with items already around their home, or perhaps with items easily acquired after a bit of asking.

Some of the gifts I’ll give this season.

Here, I’ve re-purposed hand-me-down cloth napkins, tied with yarn. The napkins’ aesthetic fits gift-giving much better than my dining room table, to my eye. If a sufficient length of the yarn remains after it’s cut, I’ll add it to my stash for darning socks.

As a more temporary measure, I wrap in color comics from the Sunday newspaper. My parents still subscribe, and they save the color pages for precisely this. A benefit of environmentally-minded parents: I received large boxes wrapped in color comics from a young age. (I imagine a space like Buy Nothing would suit, if you can’t badger your parents to acquire these comics.)

I love the fun of receiving a gift where you can take your time enjoying the outside before you open it. I love how festive the comics look, even if they, technically, are simply colorful. More practically, these comics divert something destined for recycling into re-use, but they won’t be saved again. Wrapping this way becomes eminently practical for traveling with gifts; for mailing gifts; and for most occasions when you give away from home.

Lastly, of course, I hold onto gift bags and tissue paper I receive, to re-use. I figure everyone should do this; I assume everyone does, and hides a collection of not-quite-right-for-the-occasion bags in their closet. I have seen these collections posted on Buy Nothing and given away. While I would avoid purchasing these bags new, I certainly appreciate their usefulness.

And that’s it! Three gift-wrapping options. Do you have your own, re-usable or re-used, wrapping? What do you suggest?

A love letter to the Buy Nothing project

Have you heard of Buy Nothing? A lot of people have; I’ve seen writing extolling its virtues and warning of temptation. Those essays fascinate me, since their experience tends to be different than mine, yet I agree with both extremes. Personally, I adore my local Buy Nothing group. If you’re unaware, these groups tend to be localized to a specific geographic area, and you can only be a member of one group at a time. No money is exchanged in these spaces; instead, people ask for what they need or offer what they have for free. Buy Nothing has recently built an app, but many local groups persist on Facebook, which is where I use it.

Unlike the wider Facebook Marketplace, Buy Nothing prioritizes nearness and community, as well as thoughtful re-use of items. There’s very little at stake when you’re acquiring or giving away something for free. If you don’t like it, you can always pay it forward and pass it on. I’ve gotten bath mats to warm my bathroom floor; I’ve gotten a beautiful wooden mirror to hang over my dresser; most impressively, I got a dining room table and (separately) chairs for free through the group. I received a small filing cabinet and books through Buy Nothing (and a local Little Free Library both advertises and asks for books in the group). Many small necessities throughout my apartment came from this group, when I stumbled across something and thought, “hm, need that eventually.” Knowing that these objects are only a short drive to pick up, requiring less commitment, less energy, and probably an easy stop on my way to run errands, makes it easier to go ahead and say, “yes, please.”

Asking for and receiving all these items both encouraged me to pay it forward and gave me courage to start shopping for secondhand items on Facebook Marketplace. It acclimated me to reaching out to people and saying “hey, is this available? When can I get it? What are its measurements?” Or whatever my particular question was. At the same time, it meant that I started looking around my apartment and gathering a box of items to post. In some ways, Buy Nothing feels like dropping items off at Goodwill, except perhaps simpler. All I need to do is take a quick picture and post it; no need to call somewhere to check they’re accepting donations or drive over. On the other hand, Buy Nothing allows people to ask for and pass along things that would never make it to the shelves at a secondhand store. For example, I gather empty cereal boxes and pass them along once every six months or so to a local woman with a pet bird, who uses the boxes at the base of the bird cage. I’ve seen people gift collections of wine corks, or unopened food products, accidentally purchased or delivered. People have asked for stacks of newspaper.

Buy Nothing groups tend to reflect the communities around them. In my local group, I see a lot of children’s stuff: toys, clothes, booster seats, you name it. People frequently post outgrown baby paraphernalia. There are adult clothes too, of course. Sometimes bags of clothes will get daisy-chained between a half-dozen people as they add what they no longer need and take what they want. People give away used or un-needed party supplies; I saw someone gift a helium HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloon to someone whose birthdate was a week later. Partially-used cleaning supplies show up whenever someone’s moving, as well as asks for and offers of large boxes. I see a smattering of furniture, usually stuff that isn’t in good enough quality to re-sell, that has already failed to sell online, or that needs to go quickly. Buy Nothing is a great place if you’re a DIY-er looking to fix something up; it’s the online equivalent of sticking something by the side of the road with a sign that says, “FREE.” In fact, sometimes people do precisely that: put it on the sidewalk, take a picture, and post their address with a “first come, first serve” note. Every once in a while, someone posts asking for donations for a family in need, and well-loved chairs, end tables, and miscellany pour in.

Buy Nothing also encourages gifting or receiving other kinds of things: favors, information, other gifts of service. I haven’t seen too much of that locally (which makes me contemplate the consumerism of our society), but someone offered a cooking class once. I once borrowed a baby gate for a week; I imagine this is where I’d look if I wanted to borrow power tools from a neighbor. The possibilities, when you start framing it in the context of “free” and “no strings attached,” start feeling pretty limitless.

What I’ve written so far covers many positives of the Buy Nothing model and this type of group, so I ought to cover the negative, of which there’s only one: it’s easy to acquire stuff. Too much stuff? That depends on the person, doesn’t it? Requesting a cheese grater for my kitchen saved me money. I gave a pass to the stunning roll-top secretary desk, because I knew I didn’t have space for it. Even if you’re trying to be eco-minimalist, which is to say, thoughtful with your purchases and only buying what you need, it’s much easier to dissuade yourself from a $2 splurge at a thrift store than something FREE that tempts you just as much. That’s just the human brain. The knowledge that an item will go quickly–not always to the first person who comments, but usually within a day or two–means that you don’t have much time to contemplate “do I actually need this?” I admit that I’ve asked for a few things I haven’t really needed at the time, although I can’t recall what those were, now. It takes a little extra self-control and thoughtfulness to not become obsessed with your Buy Nothing group.

A brilliant idea, the Buy Nothing concept fosters a sense of community, of generosity, and of sustainability. It asks its users to be imaginative with how we dispose of our possessions and how we provide for ourselves. By being a geographically limited, money-eschewing space, it allows us to repurpose and treasure items that might not otherwise find use (lookin’ at you, secondhand bachelorette decor). While the group cannot change the widespread overconsumption of our society, it can, like many secondhand spaces, combat the wastefulness that follows. If you haven’t checked out your local Buy Nothing group, I would encourage you to do so, and form your own opinion.

When societal beauty standards and sustainability clash

I’m writing about sustainability, but it’s important to acknowledge upfront that sustainability is fashionable right now. Yet sustainability requires, to some degree, a rejection of fashion-centric lifestyles. Fashion, belonging, and seeking acceptance all influence our lives and our interactions in deep, intense ways. I cannot expect myself or someone else to fully reject any considerations of what’s popular, what’s expected, and what’s beautiful right now. However, questioning those trends for excess or waste and searching for a middle ground can lead all of us toward more thoughtful, eco-conscious or eco-minimalist lives.

Hair dryers, straighteners, and curlers

I own a hair dryer and two curlers. I have no idea how to use them. More accurately, I have an idea, but I’ve never put in the time to practice and learn how to use them effectively. I’ve always let my hair air-dry, and my experiments with curlers are rare. Positive consequences of this: my hair’s always been healthy (aside from that one year I bleached and dyed a chunk of it) and these devices have never been a part of my energy consumption. When I hear people complain about cutting back on using heat on their hair, it’s a foreign concept to me. What part of society told you your hair needed to be different than it naturally is in order to be beautiful?

Nail polish

Nail polish is straight-up plastic. There are vegan and cruelty free options out there, but the process of removing it is, essentially, breaking it down into microplastics and throwing acetone-soaked cotton balls or cotton rounds in the trash. Nail polish, however, is one of my guilty pleasures: not frequently, not constantly, but an every-once-in-a-while treat. My grandmother gets her nails done every two weeks. Here’s how I make my nails more sustainable:

1. Mostly paint my toenails. I love brightly-colored nails, particularly when I’m headed to a beach or wearing sandals during the summer. Fingernails grow faster, and require more frequent removal or touch-ups; toenail polish can stay on close to a month and still look fine. Plus, if you screw up and don’t apply it perfectly, it’s much less noticeable.
2. Don’t buy any. I have bottles that have been sitting around for years, bottles that are hand-me-downs from relatives, bottles I received as gifts. I’ve never finished off a bottle of nail polish. I recognize that they’re not the best quality anymore, but if I’m not too worried about that, I can happily experiment with the collection I’ve got. How many people will notice? Will anyone care if the polish isn’t immaculate?
3. Also, nail salons. Supporting local businesses is always great, and while nail salons aren’t great for your budget, they can make for a special nail experience in which you aren’t buying a new color. When you’re matching a specific outfit and you won’t want the color again, this can be a particularly good choice.
4. If you want to increase your nail polish collection, look for vegan and cruelty free brands. You can google or check out your favorite sustainably-minded venues: BLK+GRN market carries multiple brands of natural nail polish, and even EarthHero offers one brand.

Nail accessories

1. Better to look for either long-lasting or compostable nail accessories, like a fully biodegradable wood nail brush from BLK+GRN, Earth Hero, or Good Buy Supply. Glass, crystal, or metal nail files are a great alternative to emery boards: they last years and never have to be replaced. I inherited a metal one but haven’t compared the textures. For more suggestions, here’s an article with an overview of a greener nail routine.
2. I purchased this Rooted Woman nail polish remover, since I didn’t own any and that’s the easiest time to switch. It’s been interesting to try. I usually use it while watching TV, since the bottle specifies letting the remover sit 2 minutes before wiping it off. Perhaps I’m not generous enough with applying the oil, but it always takes two rounds of remover to get the polish off, and even then, I tend to miss small spots. This also leaves my nails pretty oily; a few times, after removing polish from my toenails, I’ve stood in the bathtub and washed my feet. All of this is to say: this nail polish remover is effective and works fine, but it’s a different experience than a couple quick swipes with acetone. It’s fine for a relaxing break in front of a screen, but I imagine it might be tougher for someone with a packed schedule.

A vegan and cruelty free top coat, a metal nail file, and a plant based and non-toxic nail polish remover.

Makeup and being made up

Every time someone suggests a more sustainable makeup product, part of me goes, “yay!” Another part says, “isn’t the most sustainable choice to stop wearing it?” I recognize that I veer between avoiding makeup as unnecessary and frustrating, and having fun with it as a great form of artistic expression or dress-up. All these sustainable makeup brands are great for helping people transition to lower waste, lower impact lifestyles, but that swap is something I don’t worry about. Every woman acquires makeup at some point in her life, reluctantly or not. I certainly have a bagful sitting around waiting for inspiration/motivation/curiosity to strike. I think it’s helpful, therefore, to ask yourself a few questions about your collection:

1. Do I need to own more than one? I’ve had this trouble with eyeliner; I have a few types from when I was trying to learn how to apply it (never successfully) and I’ve slowly been tossing them, one at a time, as the liquid ones dry out. I never needed to buy more than one of those.
2. Can I use up what I’ve got? Think about a large and varied eyeshadow palette. Why would I buy more eyeshadow palettes if it’ll take months, if not years, to finish off the one I have? This would be true even if I wore eyeshadow more regularly, as vividly demonstrated by this video:

3. Is following a recommendation more helpful than looking for a sustainable product? I’ll be honest: if you use these items frequently and you know what you’re looking for, I think researching any type of sustainable changes (recycled/recyclable packaging, sustainable production, etc) is worthwhile. However, I’ve bought drugstore coverup and mascara, following recommendations from friends. I only need one of each; it’ll last me a long while; and I’d rather buy one product that will do its job and only be one piece of trash over numerous items as I try to find one that works. Perhaps in the future I’ll change my consumption, but if I need something I trust right now, I’m satisfied.
4. Wash your brushes! I’m sure makeup gurus discuss this, but regularly cleaning your brushes and sponges will help them last much longer! Guess what: not tossing your brushes whenever they get too much gunk on them–if you clean them regularly enough to you avoid that–might be a lot less trash you’ll generate over the long run! Plus, you’ll save money by re-purchasing the brushes less frequently.

What about you? Do you struggle with changing any of these? Is this a space where reduce is, quite simply, the best advice out there?