I always tell my husband that I don’t have an attachment to
stuff. I like material things, but typically in a house purge, I
freely and unemotionally toss items into the “these don’t
spark joy” pile. If I haven’t worn clothing in more than a year,
off it goes to Goodwill. I try to live as paper-free as possible.
Souvenirs and trip mementos? I prefer longer-lasting digital
photos that can be filed away and viewed regularly.
Yet I’m still perpetually overrun by stuff. With two kids
and a sentimental husband, our drawers and cabinets
runneth over. (And as the kids get bigger—and their
clothes get bigger—the laundry! My God, the laundry!) It’s
not helped by the fact that I bring home shopping bags
filled with beauty products to test almost every other day.
I spend at least an hour each Sunday weeding through my
beauty loot like a kid on Halloween. And I admit, this is
where my minimalist tendencies go out the window. As
you might imagine, I love makeup, skin care, hair care,
lotions, perfumes, nail polish, face tools, eye shadow
brushes, highlighter brushes, kabuki brushes, skin-care
brushes.... Give it all to me.
People often ask what we do with extra products. I give
away a lot to friends and family, and we do regular charity
drives. But if I’m being completely honest, I stockpile my
favorites like I’m doomsday prepping for some beautiful,
dewy-skinned apocalypse. I do try my best to get the most
out of products. On occasion I’ll test a heavy night cream
that’ll cause my cheeks or chin to break out. Instead of
tossing it, I use it on less-sensitive spots, like my neck,
décolletage, and hands.
But the perpetual low-level stress of maximalism—and
disorganization—has been well documented. So I’m newly
committed to paring down and finding a better method
for the madness.
Right now, I’m philosophically drawn to Marie Kondo’s
KonMari Method. My take: Keep what makes you happy. If a
lot of things make you happy, then so be it. Just be inten-
tional and find a place for them in your surroundings.
An organization expert recently reached out to me,
offering her services, and I’m considering taking the leap. I
figure finding a loving new home for some of my existing
stuff means carving out a little more space for the
Reformation dress and Brother Vellies heels I’ve been
eyeing. I know for some people, more is a four-letter word.
But then I’m reminded: So is less.
LETTER
F
R
O
M
T
H
E
E
D
I
T
O
R
what if it all
sparks joy?
16 ALLURE SEPTEMBER 2019
EM
ILY LIPSON
