By miss minimalist |
After last week’s post (400 Square Feet is the New Black), I received quite a number of emails and comments requesting more photos of our tiny apartment.
Today, I thought I’d give you a sneak peak into the bedroom. I feel a little shy inviting thousands of people into this space, but what the heck – here goes.
To be honest, there’s really not much to see. It measures only 9.75 x 9.25 feet, for a grand total of 91 square feet. Suffice it to say, photographing it was somewhat of a challenge!
 Tiny minimalist bedroom A few notes:
* I know a mattress on the floor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it works for us. It also makes the high ceilings seem even higher. 
* We have no built-in closets, so all our clothes are in these two wardrobes (mine on the left, DH’s on the right). Above each wardrobe, we’ve corralled out-of-season items (sweaters, scarves, gloves) and other extras in white nylon Ikea storage cubes. I like the way they blend into the wardrobes and the walls, and give us a little extra storage space.
* I’m not a huge fan of the carpeting, but when you’re in rented accommodations, you learn to live with less-than-ideal finishes. If it were our own place, I’d choose either dark, wide-plank, weathered wooden floors, or white painted wooden floors.
* Yes, there’s a distinct lack of color here; but as most long-term readers know, I *love* white (see my posts Minimalist Home: White Walls and Minimalist Design: White Floors). I particularly like white linens in the summer – so cool, crisp, and refreshing! I’m considering adding a pop of color with a throw pillow; perhaps something in aqua or lavender, with a botanical print. Of course, I welcome suggestions from more décor-savvy readers.
* This bedroom was made for a minimalist – there’s not enough room for a dresser, nightstand, or any other piece of furniture. I love the way it requires one to boil things down to the essentials: a place to sleep, and a place to store clothes.
As I say in my book, I think the bedroom should be the most uncluttered room in the house. It should be a place of peace and serenity, a haven from our hectic lives. But it doesn’t have to be BIG to serve these needs. By keeping things simple, a small space can provide just as wonderful an oasis for our weary souls!
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider buying my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}
By miss minimalist |
Last week, I wrote about my Housing Crisis – at the time of the post, my husband and I had four days to vacate our flat and no prospect of new accommodations.
Well, today I have some good news to report: I’m writing this post from our new apartment! With only hours to spare, we found a place, passed the reference check, and signed a lease. I still can’t believe that everything fell into place at the last minute.
What’s even more exciting: our new place will inspire us to continue to live minimally, and provide me with plenty of blog material. Why? It’s less than 400 square feet (390 to be exact).
In one year then, we’ve downsized from a 1000-square-foot 3-bedroom house, to an 800-square-foot 2-bedroom flat, to our current 390-square-foot 1-bedroom flat. Woo-hoo! I’m excited to explore the challenges of living in such a small space.
The wonderful thing is, it doesn’t feel small; in fact, it feels more spacious than some of the larger flats we looked at. The reason: it has white walls, ceilings over 10 feet tall, and enormous windows that take up the entire front wall of the flat. It’s amazing what a difference these features can make – the whole place seems so light and airy.
Here’s a few pics (one of the front windows, one of the open-plan kitchen in the corner of the living room):
Some of the challenges we’ll be facing (and I’ll certainly be writing about):
* the complete lack of storage space. This flat was a conversion, and has no built-in closets. We will have to fit all our stuff into three small wardrobes (I’ll take one, DH will take one, and the third will hold coats, shoes, tools, paperwork, luggage, iron, and all those miscellaneous household supplies that have to go somewhere).
* the tiny refrigerator. Having a small, dorm-sized fridge (with an itsy-bitsy freezer) will be wonderful inspiration to shop often and cook fresh. I plan to write more about our simple, healthy meals in the future.
* no parking. Last year, DH needed the car for work, and we found it convenient for exploring the English countryside. Since this flat does not include parking, we’re ready to go car-free! DH will commute by rail and foot (2 miles walking each day), and we’ll be relying on trains and buses to get out of the city and go on our weekend hikes.
So what’s the meaning of the title, “400 square feet is the new black”? Well, my good friend Tammy Strobel (Rowdy Kittens), her husband, and their 400-square-foot apartment were featured this week in a wonderful New York Times article on living a happy life with less. I’m thrilled to join the ranks of such inspiring, small-space dwellers, and hope to see a trend develop for mindful, “right-sized” living.
My husband and I haven’t lived in this small of a space since college, and we’re excited to come full circle (we always felt the 1000-square-foot house was much too big for us). Fortunately, our lack of stuff has enabled us to move into a lovely space in a great location (if we had more possessions, we’d probably still be looking).
I never expected to live in 400 square feet again, but I’m pretty confident we can make it work. How about you – how low could you go? Let me know in the Comments!
By miss minimalist |
 Given the title, you might expect today’s post to examine falling real estate values or the number of homeowners defaulting on their mortgages. But no – rather than discussing such heavy-hitting issues, I’m simply writing about the fact that my husband and I have to vacate our flat in four days and have no place to live.
The backstory is long and complicated, but to summarize: DH left his job, we gave up our flat (thinking we’d be leaving the UK), DH found another job, we now need a new one. Unfortunately, this turn of events transpired just weeks before our lease was set to expire, prompting a frantic search for accommodation in the expensive and competitive rental market that is London. (We were told by an agent that it’s the tightest market they’ve seen in years.)
And by competitive, I mean that any new listing that’s in decent shape, and a decent location, is immediately pounced upon by some equally desperate soul. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve heard, “That was let 30 minutes ago,” or “That one lasted just a few hours.” In a particularly heartbreaking instance: we found the “perfect” flat, and made a full-price offer on the spot. By the time our agent drove the 10 minutes back to his office to submit it, the couple who had seen the place just before us had arrived to put a deposit on it. It feels like we’ve been one step behind the entire time.
However, I’m not writing this post just to whine about our spectacular failure to secure new accommodations; I actually have a point to make regarding minimalist living.
The point is, we are not in a panic. Why? Because we don’t have a lot of stuff. Yes, we now have more than the two duffel bags with which we moved last summer (it’s hard to live without any furniture, plates, pots and pans, and cleaning supplies). But the amount is so little, and the value so low, that we’re not too worried about it. We can stash it in a small storage unit, or a kind soul’s garage, until we sort things out. To be honest, I wouldn’t lose that much sleep if we had to leave it on the street (I am frugal, though, so I’d prefer to avoid replacing the necessities).
If we had a house full of designer décor and furniture, I’m sure I’d feel differently. I’d be spending this week arranging movers, stressing over an appropriate storage solution, and paying untold sums of money to protect and transport our precious stuff. I’d be lying awake at night wondering if our sofa, or our art, or our vases would be secure from theft and safe from damage. Furthermore, I’d have to worry about finding a new home large enough to hold it all.
In a few days, our two chairs, coffee table, mattress, and handful of boxes (in addition to DH and I) will be adrift on the streets of London. Okay, that’s a little too dramatic: the stuff will probably be in storage somewhere, and we will be in a hotel. But instead of letting the situation cause distress and disruption in our lives, we will go with the flow, take each day as it comes, and be grateful that we live lightly enough to weather our own little housing crisis.
I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll say it again: life is infinitely easier when you have less stuff!
By miss minimalist |
In traditional Japanese households, décor is kept to an absolute minimum. Usually, just one or two artistic items are displayed in a small alcove called a tokonoma.
The tokonoma generally holds a calligraphic scroll or painting, along with a bonsai or simple flower arrangement. The items are appropriate to the season (like fall foliage or spring blossoms), and are meant to evoke an appreciation for both art and nature.
Of course, you don’t need an actual tokonoma to put this concept into practice. In our former house, we had a small console cabinet in the corner of our living room. On it, I displayed various “treasures” from our backyard, such as fresh flowers from our garden or a branch from our cherry tree. Sometimes, I added a small decorative object, like my little kokeshi doll or other souvenir from our travels.
That was the extent of our living room decor – we had nothing on the walls, or the other surfaces in the room.
As a minimalist, I love the tokonoma concept for the following reasons:
* it puts special objects in the spotlight, instead of making them compete for attention with dozens of others
* it’s a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the season and enjoy the gifts of nature
* by limiting the number of items on display, it discourages excess accumulation of decorative objects
* if you rotate your décor, you always have a fresh look
We don’t have a console table, a garden, or decorative items here in the UK, but we’ve created a miniature tokonoma on our windowsill – currently, it holds a handful of interesting rocks and shells we’ve picked up on our walks along the English coast. This small display always makes me smile, and adds a lovely personal touch (and a little bit of nature) to our otherwise minimal home.
So what do you have in your tokonoma?
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider buying my book, The Joy of Less, A Minimalist Living Guide, or subscribing to my RSS feed.}
By miss minimalist |
 One is enough I often wonder if the urge to collect is hard-wired in the human race, or just something encouraged by our society.
When I was a child, I remember my friends building collections of dolls, coins, baseball cards, comic books, and pop culture/movie memorabilia. I always felt a little left out. I don’t know if it was due to a lack of interest, short attention span, or early minimalist tendencies, but I had zero desire to participate in the collecting trends that were popular at the time (I won’t date myself by naming them!).
When I was a young adult, however, I finally caved to the pressure. In our post-college days, my boyfriend (now husband) and I started collecting vintage cocktail shakers to decorate our apartment. We had a great time scouring antique shops and flea markets to track them down. To be honest, I think we did it more for the thrill of the hunt than the actual objects.
Then one day, we stopped and asked why on earth we were collecting these things (we had acquired about 20-30 by that time). I think we both realized we weren’t getting any pleasure out of the objects themselves; we simply enjoyed having a mutual hobby, and could just as well entertain ourselves with other pursuits.
Fortunately, we were able to liquidate the entire collection on eBay in six weeks –- and we felt so *free* after the last one left our home!
Needless to say, that was my first and only foray into the world of collecting. I’ve only been tempted once since then, when I acquired a lovely kokeshi doll from Japan (see photo above) and considered purchasing more. However, I recalled my first collecting experience, and knew I’d eventually tire of them and end up selling them on eBay. Therefore, I decided to bypass the entire process by declaring that “one is enough.”
I’d love to hear about your experiences with collecting. Have you ever had a collection? Or have you dissolved one in your minimalist journey? Let me know in the Comments.
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed, or signing up to receive new articles by email.}
By miss minimalist |
Lately, I’ve been captivated by the idea of white floors.
Sure, they’re probably impractical, and a bugger to keep clean, but my goodness are they beautiful! (And I think they’d fare well in my no-shoes, no-pets household.)
Of course, I’ll be living in a rented flat for the foreseeable future, so I won’t have white floors of my own any time soon. For now, I’ll content myself with gazing at these lovely photos from Apartment Therapy…and sharing them with you.
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed, or signing up to receive new articles by email.}
By miss minimalist |
My husband and I travel a lot, and people sometimes ask us if we worry about our apartment while we’re gone. Our answer: not particularly. The reason: we have nothing to steal.
Sure, we have stuff—clothing, kitchenware, books, and a few pieces of furniture. However, I can’t imagine anyone wanting any of it. And if they need it so badly that they have to steal it, they probably need it more than we do.
Anything we have of value—like our iPods, cell phones, cash, and wedding rings—is almost always with us.
The only thing I’d even come close to “worrying about” is my laptop. However, it’s old enough to have little street value, and heavy enough to be unappealing to most thieves. I’d be more irritated to have to reconstruct its contents (which I could, from backups) than upset about its loss.
In fact, if it weren’t for personal safety issues (or having to evict a squatter that moves in in our absence), we could just as well leave the door unlocked.
Nine years ago, the apartment in which we were living was burglarized. The thief went through a tremendous effort to break down the door (actually tearing apart the jamb), and I love to imagine the look on his face when he saw this:
 Our minimalist apartment, circa 2001 (living room on left, bedroom on right) (And before anyone feels compelled to criticize our aesthetics, please remember that this was nine years ago—we were young, broke, and thought fairy lights were the ultimate in home décor. Our tastes have become a little more sophisticated since then; though admittedly, I still love fairy lights!)
Ok, back to the robbery. Now I know your typical thief isn’t exactly a rocket scientist, but you’d think that anyone seeing those two rooms would decide not to waste their time.
Not our thief. Undeterred, he ransacked every closet and drawer, optimistic that he’d find the treasure we’d surely hidden away.
His take: a portable CD player, an empty purse, a lipstick (!), and a ziplock bag of Canadian coins. When I think back on the incident, I still picture a cross-dressing burglar, jamming to some tunes, heading north to spend approximately three dollars of Canadian money.
When I returned home to find the mess, I called the police immediately, as I was afraid the robber might still be on the premises. An officer showed up a few minutes later. He looked around the apartment, eyes wide, and said, “Wow, he really wiped you out.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I rattled off the four missing items. He looked at me incredulously: “Are you sure that’s all he took?”
“Yes, officer. I’m sure.”
“Okay…” he replied, still not sure whether to believe me—but he seemed pretty happy that the police report only took a few minutes to fill out.
People say that a home burglary can be a devastating experience; but for us, life went on as usual. If it happened again today, I’d feel the same—as long as I’m not home at the time, I really don’t care what anyone takes. It’s just another great benefit of being a minimalist: the fewer your things (and the less attached you are to them), the fewer your worries.
Moral of the story #1: If you’re living a life of crime, don’t bother to rob a minimalist.
Moral of the story #2: Life is much easier when you have nothing to steal.
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed, or signing up to receive new articles by email.}
By miss minimalist |
So it’s finally here…spring. And you know what that means, don’t you? It’s time for some major decluttering!
I’ve always loved this time of year. The cherry trees will soon be in bloom, as well as the Bradford pears, magnolias, and dogwoods. The whole world seems fresh, new, and beautiful—and I want my home to be just as lovely!
After my major declutter for our UK move, I have significantly less to do this year. Instead of tackling a three bedroom house with a basement, attic, and garage, I’ll only be dealing with a two bedroom flat. Surprisingly enough, though—as minimally as we live—there’s still some work to be done.
Here’s my to-do list:
* Try on everything in my closet. Eliminate anything that’s worn out, doesn’t fit, or I’ve just grown tired of.
* Go through all the paperwork that’s accumulated in the last several months. Scan what needs to be scanned, shred what needs to be shredded, file what needs to be kept.
* Clean out the bathroom cabinet. Dispose of cold medications from winter, and any products that aren’t being used or are past their prime.
* Take everything out of the kitchen cupboards. Scrub down the cabinets, and put back only the food that we intend to eat (I say this because I know there are still two Christmas puddings in there! FYI to American readers: these are not what you think of as “pudding,” but rather small, highly-preserved cakes).
* Purge any books we’ve accumulated since our move. (These consist mainly of travel guides for countries we’ve already visited, and a few novels purchased for long train and plane rides.)
* Clean, clean, clean! I’m usually not particularly domestic, but springtime brings out the household diva in me. After everything’s sparkling, I’ll reward myself with a bouquet of fresh flowers for the windowsill.
Since I don’t have an attic, basement, or garage to work on this year, it’ll be a piece of cake—leaving me plenty of time to spend outdoors, watching the world come into bloom. If anyone can tell me where the best hanami (cherry blossom viewing) spots are in London, I’d be very appreciative!
Anyone else in the mood for some spring decluttering? What’s on your list?
By miss minimalist |
I love a bare floor as much as the next minimalist. However, sometimes an area rug is desirable — to delineate a section of a room, add a touch of color, or simply provide some warmth underfoot.
Anything larger than 6’ x 9’, however, can be awkward, heavy, and difficult to move.
In our former house, we found a great solution: carpet tiles, such as those made by FLOR. They’re 20” squares that come in a wide variety of colors, textures, and patterns that you can mix and match.
Here’s why they fit with our minimalist lifestyle:
They’re portable. Frequent movers will love them for this reason alone. Just stack them up, pack them in a box, and you’re ready to go!
They’re non-permanent. There’s no glue or nails involved; small adhesive “dots” connect the tiles to one another and keep them from slipping. Unlike wall-to-wall carpeting, they don’t require a carpet pad and can be easily removed.
They’re flexible. If you get tired of them in your living room, you can pick up the squares and rearrange them in your bedroom, bathroom, or anywhere else in the house. You can easily change the size or shape of the “rug” by adding or subtracting squares.
They’re interchangeable. If you can’t get that wine or coffee stain out, you don’t have to ditch the whole thing; just replace the square that’s damaged!
They’re stylish. We minimalists have good taste, and appreciate a sleek, well-designed product.
They’re recyclable. You can send your old FLOR tiles back to the company to be recycled into new product.
Unfortunately, we left ours behind when we moved to the UK (as most of you know, we moved with only two duffel bags). I wish we could find them here — they’d be perfect for our current flat!
What’s your opinion on carpeting? Do you prefer bare, covered, or a mix of both?
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed, or signing up to receive new articles by email.}
By miss minimalist |
When it comes to home décor, there are few things I love more than naked windows. In my book, they’re right up there with empty walls.
Of course, I recognize that window treatments can be quite practical—and in many cases, quite necessary! We live in the city, in view of our neighbors across the street; therefore, leaving our bedroom windows bare is out of the question. Our living room, however, is on a corner; and even though it has large, floor-to-ceiling windows, it’s less directly “exposed” to nearby buildings. Furthermore, a large tree right next to it provides privacy three seasons of the year.
Therefore, we choose to leave our living room windows naked. It’s the best we can do in our urban environment. If we lived in the middle of nowhere (or with plenty of trees to shield the view), we wouldn’t have a single curtain, blind, or shade in the house.
Our situation was quite different in our former house, where our neighbors (and their windows) were just a few feet away on each side. Even then, however, we decided to forgo curtains, and opted instead for the simplest option we could find: translucent, white fabric shades that let in plenty of light and blended in to the white walls around them.
The loft apartment we lived in before that was ideal. There, we had an entire wall of factory windows; and since the building was in an industrial section of the city, across the street from an empty lot, we had no need to cover them. It was minimalist window heaven!
Sure, the argument can be made that window treatments are valuable for climate control—like blocking cold air in winter and sunshine in summer. However, I’ve been in plenty of homes where the curtains don’t seem to be providing any climate or privacy functions whatsoever; their raison d’etre is solely decorative. And if that’s the case, why have them at all?
Lest you think this matter too trivial to discuss, no less than Thoreau himself weighed in on it in Walden:
“I would observe, by the way, that it costs me nothing for curtains, for I have no gazers to shut out but the sun and moon, and I am willing that they should look in. The moon will not sour milk nor taint meat of mine, nor will the sun injure my furniture or fade my carpet; and if he is sometimes too warm a friend, I find it still better economy to retreat behind some curtain which nature has provided, than to add a single item to the details of housekeeping.”
So, how do you feel about naked windows? Do you leave yours bare, or cover them up?
{If you’d like to read more about minimalist living, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed, or signing up to receive new articles by email.}
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