I'm a terrible pack rat. I still have every love note my high school boyfriend and I passed back and forth nearly four decades ago. To celebrate my 30th high school reunion I couldn't keep myself from embracing yet another vestige of the past - the Frye boots I'd worn back then. No, these aren't the same pair, just the same idea. All the excellence of a Frye boot with the added bonus of nostalgia, a connection to what I can barely remember but somehow don't want to forget.
And so I'm always fascinated by people who are able to clear themselves of clutter, who shed their skin and don't sit around in the desiccated dust of it.
While I travel this month, blissfully living with the bare necessities as the rest of my crap makes do without me, I thought you'd enjoy the story of a ritual designed to say goodbye to the stuff no longer needed.
Click to read A Funeral for Riding Boots by Jacki Hollywood Brown, on unclutter.com. How have you bid farewell to your well-loved things?
And so I'm always fascinated by people who are able to clear themselves of clutter, who shed their skin and don't sit around in the desiccated dust of it.
While I travel this month, blissfully living with the bare necessities as the rest of my crap makes do without me, I thought you'd enjoy the story of a ritual designed to say goodbye to the stuff no longer needed.
Click to read A Funeral for Riding Boots by Jacki Hollywood Brown, on unclutter.com. How have you bid farewell to your well-loved things?
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