The day, May 3rd, passed without fanfare while I was in Providence. I didn't even notice.
The amount of time it takes for a human baby to gestate. The length of a school year.
It has been nine months since I last bought any clothing. Nine months of buying used.
How does it feel?
Normal. Like this is just ... my life. The other day I went to the mall to get my iBook fixed and it was like stepping into a time warp. "Huh," I thought. "So this is what people do for fun. Weird."
Some days I feel like I could do this forever. Other days, like when my iPod dies, and I have to buy a new battery, I feel like I've already failed.
I've saved money, but I've spent money too. On nice restaurants and on concerts and on theatre.
One month I donated more money to non-profits than I used to donate in an entire year.
In the past nine months, I've been to more concerts than I had been to in my previous 28 years combined.
Most of the concerts were free.
When you are not buying new stuff, you learn to get creative. You learn to do without. You learn what you really need.
Before this experiment, I used to buy things because I thought my things said something about who I was as a person. Like, if I buy these plaid pants I'll look like the kind of rockin chick who spends a lot of time at art galleries in downtown LA. Or if I buy this yoga top, I'll look like the kind of girl who can do a headstand perfectly. With no need for the wall. With perfectly painted toes daintily pointing upwards.
But no matter what shirt I wore, I could never manage that headstand. My pedicure was always 3 months old. And my feet were always flailing about.
I still can't do a headstand.
But I no longer care.
3 months ago