Out of Chaos an organizing newsletter
Making Do (or: don’t fall for every little gadget)
I was laying my sweaters out to dry on the same faded towel that I’ve been using for more than 20 years, and I remembered being a little girl and seeing my best friend Katie’s mom laying her sweaters out to dry on a towel, and how perfectly it fit with her simple, yet somehow elegant, brand of homemaking.
My mother, like lots of people, had a drying rack. But it was awkward and rickety and took up space. In the end, hangers on the shower rod and a towel work just fine and are more multipurpose.
Lots of people have a mortar and pestle, yet somehow I’ve survived with the back of a spoon and a bowl. Do you really need a butter spreader (Miles Kimball catalog) or a plastic baggie dryer (reusit.com)? Seems like a knife works pretty darn well on butter, and I put my rinsed-out baggies upside down on a dishtowel and they seem to get dry.
There are whole catalogs devoted to gadgets to help you simplify your life that really just add to your clutter. The problem with a gadget (defined by its novelty rather than its practicality) is that it only does one thing. We have such an urge to buy things that will make every process “perfect” instead of just letting things be simple and imperfect. And yet the beauty is that by having less stuff, our homes become more perfect.
It is so easy to pop online or stop by some big-box store and get whatever it is we think we need: a 10-inch cake-pan (a 9-inch one will work fine!) a garlic press (side of the knife is what the pros do), curry powder (surprisingly easy to recreate with the spices I did have in my cupboard). We don’t really need so much. We need to resist the initial impulse to fix any problem with a swipe of a credit card.
I aspire to less and I like to improvise: I don’t have a double-boiler, but one of my Pyrex bowls fits into my small Revere Ware pot perfectly; the melting chocolate seems unaware of the makeshift quality of the equipment. A while back, the lid to one of my most-used Corningware baking dishes broke. At first I thought I needed to replace it, but then I realized that I had another casserole dish that I rarely used that could serve the same function. Purchase averted.
Simplicity is elegant. The best systems are the simplest. So are the best recipes. You can have a pretty-well run home by sticking with the basics: linens, bowls, pots, knives… forget dust ruffles and heart-shaped muffin tins. And you can eat pretty well with some garlic and olive oil, and maybe a basil plant in the window. Keep it simple; keep it classy. Trust me, you’ll never miss the stainless-steel spoon rest.