Out of Chaos an organizing newsletter
Trying To Solve Problems With Stuff
I spent a lot of time reading the Miles Kimball catalog when I was a kid. It always seemed to be laying around, and it was endlessly fascinating to me with its gimmicky joke gifts and solutions for problems you didn’t know you had (hands-free can-opener, because you never know when you are going to need to open a can while hanging off a cliff). On some level I knew a lot of that stuff was junk, and my mother never actually bought anything, but the idea that problems could be fixed by stuff was intriguing.
Shopping channels and the “As Seen on TV” line are masters at convincing you that the $14.99 ped-egg cordless callus remover is going to make your feet beautiful or the Verseo Arm Toning gel and “hugging sleeve” will actually tone your arms. But like most things in life, if it seems too easy, it probably is.
Sometimes this magical thinking is subtle. For example, like many New York women, I walk a lot but I also want to wear great shoes. I try to solve this problem by buying comfortable, but fabulous, shoes. Alas, it’s like trying to buy a unicorn (or a unicorn Frappuccino): This magical combination doesn’t exist. The result is always disappointing: Either my feet hurt or my shoes are clunky.
The only way to have comfortable feet is to wear comfortable shoes. Sad, but true. Similarly, the best way to look thin in jeans is not by wearing jeans with a lot of spandex, but to eschew bagels.
I feel like the Wizard of Oz, who, if you recall, really wasn’t a wizard at all. Don’t go looking for answers in (more) stuff. You’ve had the answer all the time—the pumice stone you never use, the gym membership you should use more and the sneakers that you already own. There’s no need to go running around Oz to find a magic fix (although the heel on those ruby slippers looked very manageable), just slow down and you’ll realize it is all right there at home.