Minimalist living, maximalist personality; it worked.

It wasn’t a tiny home, per se, but it was tiny and it was my home.

Story Stephanie Wilson

March, 2020

Back in 2017, when I was active on Bumble, my bio read as follows: “Small car, tiny dog, micro apartment, big career, huge dreams.” (I go on and off it now; online dating requires the kind of witty texting banter I just don’t have the energy to attempt after writing all day and reading all night, but that’s a story for another issue.) Right now, we’re focusing on the list, which referenced my Fiat 500, my three-pound Chihuahua, and my 239-square-foot apartment.

Minimalist living, maximalist personality; it worked. It wasn’t a tiny home, per se, but it was tiny and it was my home. And I loved it. It was cozy, it was bright and inviting, and it made impulse purchases impossible. Every item I brought into the space had to be carefully considered, because space was valuable. If I was on the fence about a shirt or a toaster or a throw pillow, I asked myself what I was willing to part with in order to create room for it on the shelves or in the closet. Living in such a small space as a full-grown adult forced me to be use what I already had, to read the books on my shelves. Living in that mini studio taught me to be content.

In Robyn Griggs Lawrence’s feature on tiny homes, you’ll see similar sentiments expressed by people living in such spaces. A celebration of minimalism in a maximalist world, small-space living is a trend that’s still on the rise years after it first came to our collective attention. The article gives you a good sense of why. It may inspire you to seek out your own small spot in which to live. Culling down the arbitrary things you’ve amassed over the last few decades is a cathartic experience that results in a feeling of freedom. As Jack Kerouac pointed out, “If you own a rug, you own too much.”

Enjoy the magazine, however many rugs you may own.

Best,

Stephanie Wilson
@stephwilll

PS: Next month, this letter is coming from our new Sensi Boston editor, Emilie-Noelle Provost, whose name you’ll see throughout this edition. I leave you in very capable hands.

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