The problem with being an adult is that there is no one to tell me no.
Mr. Wonderful and I don’t really have that kind of relationship. We both know not to bet the farm on anything too dodgy, but otherwise, we do as we please when it comes to shopping and as long as the lights stay on, we think we are doing OK.
He doesn’t question my spending and basically goes along with whatever crazy scheme I’ve cooked up, which makes him the ideal mate for me. He nods and listens to whatever plan I’ve just decided that “we” (meaning “he”) will be working on. He usually goes along with it until we either finish, run out of steam, or some combination of both.
I absolutely love fiddling and puttering around our house. I spend hours reading decorating blogs and Pinterest, looking for interesting ways to repurpose old things into new old things and keeping up on the myriad of ways I can “clean everything in 15 minutes or less.” (Assume it involves vinegar, it always does).
In order to expediently annoy my family, I spend an inordinate amount of time banishing extraneous furniture to the barn in the pursuit of “minimalism.” I do love open space.
Then I see something adorable online and ask Mr. Wonderful or BoyWonder to haul the banished furniture back into the house so I can arrange it in a different way. Maybe I will like it better if I add a canning jar and a vintage typewriter?
Repeat this cycle. Often.
I am forever finding some great deal on something used, or a great crafty idea to use something we already own.
Clean and crafty
When not “Repurposing All The Things,” I like to spend my time online imagining a parallel universe where I do everything in the most holistic and non-toxic way.
In this universe, I also eat “clean” 24/7, make my own clothing, and write thank-you notes on monogrammed stationery that I make with my own berry inks and maybe a potato.
I’m not super clear on that, but suffice to say that Alternate Kymberly is verrry crafty.
In my alternate life, I also drink small-batch craft beer with artsy names like “Bicycle Shaft” and “Brew.” That Kymberly never drinks sweet wine from the $3.99 shelf at the supermarket (rumor has it THAT Kymberly loves a screw cap and thinks corks in $10 bottles of wine are pretentious).
Closet in a capsule
My parallel universe self also has her/my look together.
Recently, I got tired of wearing leggings and oversized shirts like the world’s oldest preschooler setting out in my Garanimals. Accordingly, I cleaned out my closet and set to work creating a “capsule wardrobe” consisting of quality, grown-up type clothing items with buttons and zippers and everything!
The thought was that with key pieces procured, I could mix and match and end up looking like a semi-respectable adult most of the time. Notice I did not say “all” of the time. I like to keep the bar low.
I immediately began filling my closet with items that I had seen on models and liked. News flash: Models are not built like middle-aged, middle class, soccer moms. (I know. I am as shocked as you are.)
Speaking of things that don’t fit, just this weekend I spent something like 12 hours painstakingly shopping for a wall mural (yes I said mural and no it is not the 1970s and this is not your dentist’s office, keep up).
I had this vision of turning an “accent” wall into a chic urban loft feel. Eventually, GirlWonder reminded me that we live in a 110-year-old classic Victorian farmhouse and an edgy urban brick wall would look … odd. She used more pointed terms but I’m saving my own feelings here.
In truth, my alternate universe self is kind of like me — but much cooler.
Parallel universe shopping Kymberly feels like she MIGHT live in a hip, converted warehouse loft and wear skinny jeans. I mean I could totally be the type of person who would.
Then I remember I don’t like living in a city, skinny jeans don’t come in my size for a reason, and I like planning to do things as much if not more than actually doing them.
Plus, if that Kymberly was the real me, who would be here to tell Mr. Wonderful to bring the same table in and out of the barn all year long?