by Amy Newmark
~Elizabeth A. Atwater
Half Is More
Women usually love what they buy, yet hate two-thirds of what is in their closets.
~Mignon McLaughlin
Being the mother of three active children, I enjoyed volunteering at their school and attending their music concerts and athletic games. That is why I was taken aback one morning at breakfast when my youngest son asked, “Mom, are you coming to my doo-wop concert tonight?”
“You know I am, so why are you asking?”
“Well, umm, please don’t wear your clown blouse,” he said.
“So what blouse are you talking about?”
Looking at the floor, he softly replied, “The bright blue one with the yellow confetti specks and it ties in a big bow at the neck.”
He had just described my favorite blouse. Suddenly I started laughing and couldn’t stop because I had to admit it did look a bit clownish. With tears running down my face and a big smile I promised him: “I will never wear that blouse again.”
The look of relief on his face was unforgettable as he grabbed his books and ran out the front door to school. Reluctantly I went upstairs to get dressed for work. Since my favorite blouse was now definitely out, I had to choose another top to go with my navy blue skirt and heels. Stressed, I pulled on a red short-sleeve sweater that was too hot for the sunny September day, but there was nothing else that looked appropriate.
Off and on that day I couldn’t stop thinking about all the clothes in my packed closet. After the birth of my first child I had started purchasing my clothes exclusively from clearance racks to save money. This plan had worked when I was a stay-at-home mother and for the past five years working part-time in the trade school’s construction office. Jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies were my main wardrobe.
However, things had changed this school year. I had a new job working full-time in the school district’s Public Information Office. This first week had been really stressful, between trying to get dressed each morning and learning my new responsibilities.
Knowing I had to make some major changes, I got up early on Saturday to take everything out of my closet, which I hadn’t done in years. Methodically I tossed all the worn clothing and shoes, stretched out belts, and dusty purses into large trash bags. The items that were still in good condition, but didn’t fit or I hadn’t worn in a year, I put in boxes to donate to charity. I kept only the clothes and shoes that fit perfectly and were a solid color. Looking at the few remaining dresses, skirts, slacks, and blouses I could see there wasn’t much left to wear to work.
As I carried the trash bags out to the garage and loaded the boxes into my car, I decided to buy at least two new tops. That afternoon, I went to the shopping center and carefully selected a long-sleeved white blouse and a structured beige tee that would go with everything. Unsure of what to buy next, the following week I signed up for an adult education class that was offered in October. It was for women like me who wanted to learn how to dress professionally for the office. When the big day arrived, there were thirty women in attendance. The instructor welcomed everyone and promised, “In the next two hours, you are going to learn how to put together a simple and basic working wardrobe for the business world.”
She started off by instructing us to purchase a skirt, slacks, jacket, cardigan sweater, shoes, and a purse all in the same color like black, gray, dark blue, brown, or beige.
She started off by instructing us to purchase a skirt, slacks, jacket, cardigan sweater, shoes, and a purse all in the same color like black, gray, dark blue, brown, or beige. “Whatever your budget, try to buy these basic items from the same manufacturer so the dyes and styles match.”
I had never thought about details like this before, but this was definitely the information I was looking for. Her assistant wore a matching black skirt and jacket to show us the many different looks you can achieve by adding a scarf, belt, or jewelry. At the end of the class, the instructor summarized, “Remember to limit the color in your outfits to your tops and jewelry; and keep an up-to-date wish list of clothing you need or want. By following this easy plan, you will always have something to wear that fits every occasion.”
This simple wardrobe strategy changed my life completely. Over time I bought the basics in black, dark blue, and beige. Of course I still shop the clearance racks, but I only buy an item if it is on my list and in the right color. With half the clothes, I am always amazed and relieved that I have so many outfits to wear.
~Brenda Cathcart-Kloke
The Real Treasures
There are two ways to be rich: One is by acquiring much, and the other is by desiring little.
~Jackie French Koller
Over the years I’d collected all sorts of things — unusual napkin rings, antique hatpins, beach glass, old crocks, glassware, rag rugs, brass and silver. But a number of years ago I noticed a heavy feeling whenever I looked at my collections. I wasn’t sure why, but the fun had gone out of collecting.
“Why do I have so many things?” I’d ask myself.
Then, surprisingly, I’d answer right back. “They’re your treasures. Keepsakes. Things to pass on to your children and grandchildren. Besides, they’re fun to look at and display.”
But something happened over twenty years ago that made me see my collections in a whole different light. I was in Louisville, Kentucky, visiting my brother and sister-in-law. One day we attended an auction… a little slice of heaven for a collector like me. The newspaper ad proclaimed it to be “The Lifetime Collection of Treasures!”
I wondered if the couple who owned the house and its furnishings were paring down their possessions before moving into a retirement home. I wondered if perhaps one of them had died recently.
What my brother, sister-in-law and I discovered when we pulled into the driveway was that the owners were very wealthy. Their house, on acres and acres of a perfectly manicured estate, complete with a huge in-ground pool and spa, had sold to the first looker for $650,000. And remember, this was back in the early nineties. All of their exquisite possessions were sitting on the front lawn under huge tents, waiting to be sold at public auction. Over four hundred items worth hundreds of thousands of dollars were cataloged on legal size sheets given to the many potential bidders on that hot June afternoon.
Items on that list included, a “Highly carved Chippendale mahogany king size four post canopy bed on claw feet. Superb Queen Anne burl walnut bookcase china cabinet with beveled glass doors, dated 1890. Mother of Pearl inlaid rosewood tea caddy with hinged box interior, circa, 1850. Rare signed Tiffany and Company coffee urn. Three piece Ansonia marble clock set with open encasement and mercury pendulum, circa 1880.”
This wasn’t your typical auction. The auction also included a Mercedes Benz in superb condition; a six-month-old snazzy red pickup truck; and an Audi 200 Quattro Turbo with heated seats. The couple was selling everything, including the wheels right out from under themselves.
“Why would anyone part with all their treasures?” I asked my sister-in-law.
Linda just shrugged her shoulders, obviously as mystified as I, and said, “Look at the china, candelabra and cut glass. Think of the parties these people had!”
I ran my fingers over the fine sharp edges of half a dozen huge cut glass vases and umbrella stands. As I walked around a dozen antique Persian rugs stretched out on the lawn, I tried to imagine why or how one could part with such exquisite beauty.
The auction began under another giant tent filled with folding chairs out on the south lawn. The pristine navy blue leather sofa sold to the highest bidder for just under two thousand dollars. The huge mahogany dining room table sold for $1500. The twelve matching chairs went for $265 each. This definitely wasn’t a sale for folks like me.
Why, I wondered over and over… why would they sell it all? Don’t they have children who would want these treasures? Certainly many of the antique items had been in their families for generations.
We left after three hours, befor
e a third of the items had been sold. My brother managed to get a dandy oak workbench for fifty dollars. The next day, when we went back to the estate with his van to pick up the workbench, my curiosity got the better of me. I just had to know why these people were selling their home and all those exquisite furnishings, antiques and treasures.
When I rang the doorbell a pretty young woman with long, light brown, wavy hair, no make-up and simple clothes answered. Wow, they even have a maid, I thought to myself wistfully.
“Is the owner of this house at home?” I asked.
“I’m the owner,” she said simply, flashing a warm smile.
“Oh, my goodness,” I stammered. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to intrude, but, well, I’m here with my brother. He’s out in the garage loading the workbench he bought yesterday. I just had to meet you. I’m wondering if you would mind telling me why you sold all your beautiful possessions.”
Giving away my things slowly but deliberately is giving me a sense of freedom, a cleansing of sorts.
The young woman graciously invited me into their home and introduced me to her husband, who reminded his wife that they had to be at the house closing in forty-five minutes.
I repeated my question. “How could you sell all your beautiful treasures?”
The husband, a very good-looking, curly-haired man in his early forties smiled, put his arm around his wife’s waist and said quietly. “Oh, I didn’t sell my treasures. All that is just STUFF. My treasures are right here, my wife and daughter. Have you met our daughter? She’s eleven. Yes, these are my treasures: my wife and my daughter. They are all I need.”
The young woman explained that the previous April she had gone to the Bahamas for a week with a friend and fallen in love with a tiny island called “Green Turtle Cay” in Abaco. She called her husband and asked him to join her so he could see the beauty of the tiny island. He flew over the next day and together they explored the island, befriended the local residents and thoroughly relaxed in a world that had missed out on the twentieth century. After a few days the couple decided to change their lives. They agreed to sell their home and all their possessions and move to the Bahamas with nothing but their bathing suits and a few small personal items.
The young wife’s eyes danced with excitement as she explained further. “We’re leaving tonight; can you believe it? Tomorrow our address will be Green Turtle Cay. We’re moving into an old, simple, one-story oceanside home with just four rooms; a kitchen, living room and two bedrooms. No phone or TV. In fact, there are only two pay phones on the whole island. It takes three weeks for mail to get from here to there.
“We’re really looking forward to just spending time together. This life here, these things, the big house, all those furnishings and stuff, the Junior League, it’s just not me. I don’t like what happens to your life when you have money. Things somehow become more important than people. This house and all those expensive items are not important. What’s really important is family, sunshine, wind and the sea and those will be the things we’ll have every day on the island.”
It was time for me to leave and let this amazing family get on with their lives. I shook hands with each of them and wished them a happy life. I left with a sense of awe, knowing these wonderful people had given me a valuable gift.
I came home from Louisville and started cleaning house. I gathered up hundreds of items for a rummage sale. I wrapped up a cherished silver casserole dish and two collectible green vases that my sister-in-law had admired and shipped them off to her.
I gift-wrapped a set of antique butter plates that had been in my family for three generations and gave them to my neighbors who had just gotten married. I gave my brass collection to my son for Christmas. I placed 150 books on my dining room table and insisted that my friends in my woman’s group each take a handful of books home with them. I gave most of my silver collection to my four children. The next spring I put over a hundred items on a big table out by the street in front of my house with a huge sign that simply said FREE. Every month I clean out one closet or one drawer full of stuff and either give it away or toss it.
Giving away my things slowly but deliberately is giving me a sense of freedom, a cleansing of sorts. It’s fun to see how much the people who receive my things are enjoying them.
But the best part is that now that I’ve stopped collecting and started giving away instead, I have less clutter around the house to dust, which means I have more time to spend with my friends and family. And those, as I learned earlier at the grand estate sale in Kentucky, are my real treasures.
~Patricia Lorenz
I Have Enough
We need much less than we think we need.
~Maya Angelou
Another Monday morning. It was only nine o’clock, yet I felt like I had already put in a full day’s work. The packed ferry and train meant I had to stand through the entire hour and a half commute into Manhattan’s financial district. There had to be an easier way to earn a living.
I pulled out my calendar. Three management meetings scheduled for the morning and a working lunch to discuss how to announce impending budget cuts to the staff. The afternoon didn’t promise to be any better — a three-hour training session to teach supervisors how to implement disciplinary action for poorly performing employees.
I liked my job most of the time. My undergraduate and graduate degrees were in business administration and I had been blessed to develop a career in my field of study. It paid well and I had worked my way up to vice president. However, as the years passed I found myself longing to do something more fulfilling with my life.
My heart was drawn to writing, teaching Bible studies, and mentoring. But it just didn’t seem sensible to leave a profitable career to focus on something so idealistic. Besides, living in New York City meant struggling with a high cost of living, including steep mortgage payments. I also did not want to give up the perks of my job. I enjoyed the executive benefits and international travel. So for twenty years, I climbed the corporate ladder and dreamed of a time when I could spend my days doing the things I really wanted to do.
How do you know when you have enough? I struggled with that question until I remembered the quote from John D. Rockefeller. He was once asked, “How much money is enough?” He answered, “Just a little bit more.” I decided I didn’t want to be someone who spent her life chasing “just a little bit more.”
When my husband retired, we decided to grab the opportunity to make a major change and simplify our life. We exchanged life in the big city to start over in a small town in Florida. Our goal was to trim our living expenses and try to live solely on my husband’s pension. If we could manage it, then I would be free to write and teach. Clipping coupons seemed a small price to pay to follow my dream.
I decided I didn’t want to be someone who spent her life chasing “just a little bit more.”
Still, I had reservations. While I was eager to give up the stress and pressures associated with my career, I wasn’t eager to give up the status, travel, and benefits that accompanied it. And our move wasn’t just about changing careers. I had lived in the same area for my entire adult life and would be leaving my entire support network of family and friends. Was I making too many changes at once?
It didn’t help that I had received an abundance of conflicting advice from well-meaning people. One extended family member said I was making a big mistake in leaving the corporate world so soon. According to him, I had “at least another ten good years of work” left in me. From his perspective, I was foolishly throwing away a lucrative earning opportunity. Sadly, he could not comprehend that, although we weren’t rich, we had enough.
Others shared the opposite view. They said I wasted those first twenty years trapped in the nine-to-five rat race. According to them, life is much too short to put our dreams on hold. The sooner I left my job and followed those dreams, the better.
We completed our relocation and pursued our initial plans. I’d be lying if I said it didn�
��t require a major adjustment. But as I began teaching and writing, I came to the realization that both extremes of advice had been wrong for me.
I may have had at least “ten good years of work” left in me for the corporate workplace. That certainly would have been the more lucrative option. But it was indeed time to move on to follow the dream of my heart. It was time to stop chasing “just a little bit more.”
Besides, those twenty years weren’t a waste at all. The skills I acquired in the corporate workplace were just as useful in my new life. Writing position papers, memos, and corporate policies honed my writing abilities. Researching policy development prepared me to research the books I write. The exhausting daily commute provided the content for my first paid submission: “Not Just Another Rat” in Chicken Soup for the Working Woman’s Soul.
I may have spent one thousand Monday mornings postponing my dream, but nothing is ever wasted… in work and in life. I’ve learned to appreciate the worth of all my experiences. I’ve also learned to be content with what I have.
Others may have more, but I have enough… and enough is just right for me.
~Ava Pennington
Recharged Without the Cards
Credit cards are like snakes: Handle ’em long enough, and one will bite you.
~Elizabeth Warren
I was twenty when I got my first credit card. My dad said I might need it in an emergency while I stayed with my friend in Hawaii. My shiny blue Visa card remained untouched in my wallet throughout my trip; when I ran out of money, I returned home. What a concept: when you’re out of money, you stop spending!