Him: "That's a very good idea. That'll be... very time-consuming."
Beetlejuice (1988)
So, I have hoarder genes. I know this.
I like things. I like to acquire things. I like to own things. I like to play with and gloat over things. I love the minimalist look but I am not, at heart, a minimalist.
I can't eliminate all acquisition. Or maybe it's just that I won't. But my acquisitive urges need a speedbump, something to slow them down. Something... time-consuming.
So I have a strategy. It involves tapping into my perfectionism, a characteristic that normally aids and abets hoarding, one that I normally try to smother. But for specific kinds of acquisition, I let it out just a bit, by demanding some brand of perfection in the things that I acquire.
For example, there are a number of classic children's books that I'd like to own. I could go out and buy every single one of them that's still in print, plop them on the shelf, and, having filled a few precious cubic feet of storage space and spent far too much money, go on to rapidly fulfill the next acquisition urge.
Instead, I've decided that I want to own them in ex-library editions, with the original illustrations that I loved as a child, and if possible, with the dust jackets. A perfectionist goal, one that involves a lot of online hunting. In several years, I've acquired about ten books.
The whole perfume collecting process is similar, when it follows the rules. According to the rules, the process for acquiring a new perfume is to get a sniff, then a vial, then a decant, then use up the decant, then use up another decant, and only then buy an actual bottle. Unless it's an expensive bottle, in which case I'm supposed to wait a full year for all of the seasons to roll around. Very time-consuming. And the fact that most of the perfumes that interest me aren't even available in convenient local stores makes it all the more so.
So far, planned perfectionism is doing a pretty nice job of roadblocking even non-hobby purchases like clothes. I've been looking for the perfect raincoat for five years. The perfect dead plain black sweater for two years. The perfect knee-high boots for twenty years.
Though ankle boots made their way into the house recently. I had no perfectionist standards for ankle boots. Oops.
But in general, it's working.
Cars photo: By Peng. Wikimedia Commons.
Bug photo: By Hannes Grobe. Wikimedia Commons.
