What I’ve Learned from Decluttering Expensive Things

Ten years ago owned a magical designer cardigan that I bought with money from my first part-time job. It was navy, with a silver thread weaved throughout, ruffles and a little smiley face and bow on the sleeve. I used to visit it every week or so in my local Urban Outfitters and imagine how amazing it would be to slip it on and feel like I was wearing the night sky.

Eventually I bought it.

As it turned out I didn’t wear it much. While the fabric quality was lovely, it didn’t really match much of my other clothes. The sleeves were short and my wrists would get cold. It hung in a shapeless way. The ruffles meant it didn’t layer well under coats. It also had about 200 hook and eye fasteners which were a pain to line up and would snag on EVERYTHING.

I loved it, but I wasn’t wearing it. It wasn’t making all my bad moods and problems go away and I definitely wasn’t getting my money’s worth. But did I declutter it? Well, it was complicated!

And the price I paid made it so much more complicated

It would go in the maybe pile. It would hangout in the back of my wardrobe. Or in the winter clothes box. Eventually I tried to sell it to appease my conscience but there were no takers. Even though the brand went out of business.

I finally gave it away to charity and guess what, I haven’t missed it. So what have I learned from decluttering this and other expensive possessions? Here are three things:

(Just so you know: Some links in this post are affiliate links, which means that if you click on them and buy something I get a small percentage. Thank you for supporting my small business in this way!)

It might be gorgeous, but if it doesn’t suit your life you won’t use it

The cardigan didn’t fit the bill. It was like there was a surface me, with a fantasy lifestyle and ideals and deep down there was a real life me, who used what met my needs. Do you ever feel that internal battle, like your brain is working against you? I find it fascinating figuring out what I really like and need in round-a-bout ways. In my experience, there are ways to figure out if something will be worth buying - like buying second-hand or borrowing first, but sometimes the only way to know is to take the plunge and try it out.

When it costs this much, you really try to make it work.

The key is forgiving yourself when it doesn’t work out and remembering what you learned from the experience. For example, I know that I won’t wear jeans that dig into my stomach and make sure I meet this criteria when I buy new pairs.

Photo by Craig Adderley from Pexels — Photo by **Craig Adderley** from **Pexels**

2. The lure of advertising is powerful, but you can beat it

My cardigan was going to make me feel like a million bucks when I wore it and I couldn’t have a bad day in it. I pictured myself at college society meetings without social anxiety, writing essaying and never getting stuck…

This is the job of advertising, to make us feel like we have a problem and that the solution is the thing in front of us.

When we have to shell out more for it, the promise seems all the more strong.

Try articulating what this item will do for you and gather the evidence that it will work. For example, if you are about to buy an expensive blender think about how often you buy smoothies, or how often you wrestle with the low powered one you already own. Is your smoothie recipe book dusty on the shelf? Maybe you don’t need an expensive countertop hogger taunting you every morning.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels — Photo by **Andrea Piacquadio** from **Pexels**

3. You can return it, if you get to it

I used to have a tag snatching routine when I bought new clothes. I felt the urge to commit to my purchases, with nothing tagged entering my wardrobe. This helped my anxiety and decision fatigue (here are some healthier ways to do that), but meant that I could never return anything. The same was true for boxes and packaging.

Now however, with the need to bring things home to try them on and the complications of ordering online, I’ve created new routines for myself… going the extra step to try carefully and return as needed. It’s a pain in the bum, but this extra step does so much more than return money to you.

You get your space back, your time spent cleaning and storing… and more importantly, you get your headspace back without the constant reminder of your failed purchase, gathering dust and talking to you from the corner of the cupboard.

Put it in a bag by the door and take it on your next trip out to the shops or post office. Maybe this is something your spouse can help you with to get it over the line.