Thailand and Cambodia

I finally made it! I found an old journal from college (probably about 12 years old) where I listed Thailand as the top place in the world I wanted to visit. It took a while to get there (literally and figuratively--the trip itself took 30 hours), but it was worth it. From the beaches of Phuket and Ko Phi Phi, to the ruins at Angkor in Cambodia, to the splendid temples and chaos of Bangkok, I loved every moment. The people, the food, the sights, and the colors of Southeast Asia are truly unforgettable.

Adventure Challenge: Looking Back

Well it's been a while since I've posted. As one might surmise from the tone of my last post, I struggled with the challenge, and in April, I threw in the towel. Although I still think the challenge was a worthwhile endeavor, I felt a little sheepish about not sticking it out for a full year. But at the end of March I got a new job in management and I realized there is a limit to how much self-improvement a person can undertake at once.

Being a first-time supervisor has been challenging and rewarding--an opportunity to learn new skills, play to my strengths, and stretch myself--but definitely stressful. Sometimes at the end of the day I get "decision fatigue," where I just can't make one more decision about anything, not even what to make for dinner. It can be lonely being the boss, and frequently it feels like your subordinates and your superiors are all mad at you for different reasons. Add to that the feeling of waking up every morning, looking in your closet, and feeling like you have nothing appropriate to wear and no means of remedying the situation, and it was just too much. My new office is more formal than my old one and as a supervisor (also the youngest manager and one of only a handful of women), I felt the need to look the part.

When I bought some new work clothes in April--blazers, blouses, and shoes--it felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest. As much as I felt bad for quitting my own challenge, that guilt was far outweighed by a new sense of calm confidence that I was equipped in at least one way to be effective at work, even while I blindly, frantically felt my way in most other areas.

I still try to make intentional buying choices and am working to edit my wardrobe as much as possible. I recently discovered a fashion start-up called Cuyana, founders of the "Lean Closet Movement" and whose motto is "fewer, better things." I really love what they are all about: a woman should love everything in her closet, and every item should be distinctive and timeless. She should cultivate and curate her wardrobe instead of consuming and discarding.

So did I live "deliberately and authentically" this year, as I professed to want to in January? I think so.  I finally made it to Thailand and Cambodia, places I had wanted to visit for at least a dozen years. My marriage is thriving, I have reconnected with some lost friends, and every day in my job I have a chance to demonstrate my core values as a leader.

As they say, life's a journey, not a destination. I still have a long way to go, but I know my path will be intentional and meaningful, even if the smaller goals change along the way.

Adventure Challenge: Some Observations

From the Opinion section in today's New York Times:

Intuitively, we know that the best stuff in life isn’t stuff at all, and that relationships, experiences and meaningful work are the staples of a happy life.

In light of my ongoing Adventure Challenge, it's probably not surprising that I felt like this article was written just for me. Ok, the author is a crusading anti-hoarder who lives an ascetic existence in a 420-square-foot Manhattan apartment. That goes way beyond the scope of my challenge. But I do agree with his message that over-consumption can crowd out the most satisfying parts of life, and that once your basic needs are met, each new item you purchase does not commensurately increase your happiness. It is possible--and worthwhile--to live with less, to edit your existence to a point where you are not expending time and energy constantly acquiring, maintaining, storing, sorting, and discarding stuff. To live a considered, simplified, and more rewarding life.

So that's swell, but let's just say I'm not there yet. I miss shopping. A lot. I have had a few meltdowns that were nominally triggered by something else ("I don't like the book I am reading") but in reality I think I am reaching my psychological limit from all this self-improvement.

I've looked to cosmetics, gifts, books, and home goods as a shopping crutch. But in addition to being unsatisfying, I always kind of feel like I am cheating on the challenge with these purchases. I do try to ask whether I really need something before I buy it and I am taking a critical look at my wardrobe to identify where I want to "rebuild" next year.

As for relationships, experiences, and meaningful work, I know this year is going to be filled with all three. That means I already have everything I need!

Adventure Challenge: 2 Months In

Ok, so it's March, and I've gone more than two months without shopping.* As I predicted in January, it's gotten a lot harder. I've realized that I used to shop out of boredom--buying things online was always a nice pick-me-up and the thrill of coming home to a stack of UPS boxes was even better. Of course, the high was fleeting. Rarely did I love or need whatever I had bought, and most of the time these items would simply find a home in my closet until I decided to purge my wardrobe to make way for new merchandise. In contrast, most of my favorite items--the ones I still look forward to wearing and have had for years--have been well-considered purchases, things that I bought with a purpose, knew worked with my taste and body type, and maybe even saved up for. I want this to be my post-2013 paradigm.

But for now, I am bored. Work is slow and I am in the tortuous applicant-limbo stage as I wait to hear about new positions. The weather's still cold, I'm sick of my winter clothes, and there's tons of cute spring stuff in the stores. In the old days, a shot of new stuff would have been just the thing to boost my mood. I've found myself wistfully browsing my old favorite sites, agonizing over the fact that it will be nine months before I can buy that cute patterned dress, which will be inevitably out of stock, out of season, or just no longer cool by then. However, I've discovered that I the urge to buy quickly dissipates after I close the page, and by the next day I don't even remember what that patterned dress looked like.

Research shows that too much self-improvement at once can take a psychological toll. Apparently it's not a good idea to try to diet and save money at the same time. Although it's a bit dramatic to characterize my shopping-free year as deprivation, it kind of feels like it. Add in my new workout regimen, and I think I am at the limits of my self-discipline. So when the doctor told me last week that women should not have more than one alcoholic drink per day AND that my cholesterol had gone up (perhaps from a month of steak dinners in Argentina?), I almost had a nervous breakdown. I'm going to ride out the cholesterol thing and hope that it stabilizes on its own. As for the alcohol intake? Not tackling that until at least 2014.

*To date, I have made the following purchases in 2013:

-A Goyard tote in NYC (pre-planned purchase, as previously noted in this forum)

-4 pairs of non-slip socks, mandatory for Lava Barre classes

-2 sportsbras from Target, also for Lava Barre classes

Argentina - take 2

Our honeymoon in Argentina in 2009 was an amazing adventure. We fell in love with the sophistication of Buenos Aires, the romantic ruggedness of the gauchos, the wines and scenery of Mendoza, and the culinary delights...well, everywhere. The opportunity to return three and a half years later gave us a chance to re-visit some of our old haunts and spend a month really getting to know the country. I'm pleased to report that my Spanish improved a great deal and--despite daily croissants, steak, fries, and wine--I didn't gain a pound, thanks to the hot weather and tons of on-foot exploring. We spent weekdays in BsAs and jaunted off on weekends to Colonia, Uruguay (a quaint little colonial town a quick ferry ride from BsAs); the famous and spectacular Iguazu Falls, and Bariloche, a little taste of Switzerland in Patagonia.

Adventure Challenge: Week 1

I was able to ease into my no-shopping resolution this year because I will be spending the rest of January brushing up my Spanish in Argentina. Knowing that I would be gone for a month and there would be nobody home to receive the usual weekly haul from UPS and FedEx forced me to curtail my online shopping just before Christmas. The first few weeks are the most important for habit formation, so I am glad this trip got me off on the right foot. Packing was a much more high-stakes endeavor than usual, since I won't be able to buy anything I might forget or need. (As if packing weren't sufficiently unpleasant before.) I won't be able to buy any clothes or shoes on this trip, which is too bad because on our honeymoon to Argentina in 2009, I scored an amazing leather jacket, boots, and a scarf, all of which I still wear and get tons of compliments on. This time I'll focus on consumables (malbec, anyone?) and maybe stuff for the home. I am sure I won't come back empty-handed.

What do I hope to gain at the end of this year? Try as I might, I won't be a tanned, 22-year-old recent college graduate and those footloose days in Greece are long gone. But beyond a fatter bank account, I am hoping to gain a more deliberate approach to the things I bring into my life. I want to wean myself off of impulse buys and start purchasing things I really love that will last. My sister and I have frequently fantasized about having "French girl wardrobes" of 10 perfect items. That simplicity and self-restraint appeal to me. And maybe some of those same qualities will spill over to the rest of my life: patience, delayed gratification, an appreciation for quality over quantity, self-awareness, contentment. When I get back to shopping in 2014, I hope I have an entirely new philosophy. I hope I will realize that fashions don't transform so often that you need new stuff every week just to keep up. I hope the idea of "keeping up" doesn't even occur to me. I hope I can get over my chronic FOMO and remember that if you miss out on that adorable shift dress on Rue La La, there's another one right around the corner because that's the only way stores can stay in business. When I was in Greece or in Australia for two months last year, my tiny wardrobe could fit in a medium-sized suitcase and I never felt like I looked uncool. I want to be able to keep my head about me when all of my college friends look amazing at the 10-year reunion in June and I am wearing a dress from the back of my closet. I want to challenge and improve myself because I know I can do it, not because I need to.

For now, I don't even miss shopping. I feel hungover from my holiday shopping binge and had my trip to look forward to, plus all the logistics of a month overseas to handle. And there's nothing good in the stores right now anyway. I am sure it will get harder before it gets easier.

An Adventure Challenge for 2013

When I traveled to Greece to work as travel writer during the summer after college, I had nothing but a backpack and a clunky 1999 vintage laptop in an unfashionable case to my name. Working for a company specializing in "budget travel," I lived the genuine experience, surviving on about $50 per day for nine weeks. Believe me, you can't get too far on $50 once you subtract the bus fare to whatever dusty Greek town you're supposed to check out that day and the cost of a spare room in some yiayia's house for the night. If you're lucky, you have enough money for one delicious gyro and then it's time to head home and bang out 15 pages of copy on the ol' Thinkpad.

I was poor, lonely, foreign, tired, often bored. In the occasional moments I found myself somewhere beautiful or exciting (and not at another underwhelming tiny museum filled with nothing but fragments of ancient pottery) I usually had neither the money or the company to enjoy it. Looking back, it was one of the best times of my life. I was alive. I was young. I lived simply and authentically. I am so proud and thankful for that experience.

Although my circumstances have changed drastically in the past 10 years--I'm now married with a well-paying desk job, my own home, and comfortable life--I still see myself as that solitary writer in Greece. I wanted to prove to myself that I haven't gone completely soft. That I could still live simply and authentically, on only what I can carry (so to speak). I decided I would eschew a luxury that I have begun to take for granted: my shopping habit. For years I have binge-shopped online, ordering hundreds of dollars of clothes and shoes each month. No, I am not drowning in credit card debt. I can comfortably afford it all. But I know I don't need it. I feel like I am becoming enslaved to things, to consumerism and mindless impulse buys. I want to remind myself of who I am, the way I see myself; to reassert my values of living deliberately and meaningfully and prove to myself that I can do it. Yes, it's a small, perhaps superficial way of proving that. But a year is a long time. And I have already been tempted to buy a pair of really cute octopus pajamas on One Kings Lane. So let the adventure begin. 

The rules:

1. No new purchases of clothing, accessories, jewelry or shoes for the duration of one year (1 January-31 December 2013).*

2. Beauty products, home goods, and gifts for others are allowed.

3. Hubby can only give me gifts on established gift-giving occasions (birthday, Valentines Day, Christmas).

*In the interest of full disclosure, I have one pre-planned purchase (a Goyard tote) that I already committed to buying with my sister on my next trip to NYC. The above rules apply to all new purchases. My journey will be fully and truthfully documented here, to include any lapses.

Kodachrome Gypsy Book Club - Best Reads of 2012

Another year gone by. As always, I spent a significant portion of it reading. Here are my favorites from 2012:

Steve Jobs (Isaacson). Hubby would not stop talking about how fantastic this book was and urging me to read it. I was initially reluctant, insisting that I had no interest in joining a bunch of Apple fan-boys to worship at the altar of a megalomaniac in a mock turtleneck. Turns out, I was misguided. Although it is an authorized biography, the book does not deify Jobs. In fact, much of it focuses on his flaws and idiosyncrasies--including his "reality distortion field"--and how these both contributed to and constrained his success at Apple. Most interestingly, Isaacson frequently contrasts Apple's (and Jobs's) hippy, counter-cultural self-image with its rigid and at times cutthroat business practices. Isaacson portrays Jobs as a highly compelling figure and a true visionary, but probably not someone you'd want to hang out with.

The Handmaid's Tale (Atwood). Written in 1986, this novel depicts a dystopian future where feminists and Christian fundamentalists unite to establish a bizarre and repressive social order, reminiscent of 1984. Offred, the protagonist, is a handmaid, the unfortunate object of the male-dominated establishment's brutal repopulation policies. Chilling, original, and thought-provoking.

NW (Smith). I am a big fan of Zadie Smith and devoured her other novels, White Teeth and On Beauty. NW does not disappoint. It is quintessential Smith, featuring the vivid characters, snappy dialogue, class conflict, and multiculturalism she's known for. NW weaves together vignettes of four residents in gritty northwest London, including former schoolmates Natalie and Leah, who grew up together in public housing but have drifted apart in adulthood. A complex narrative with a surprising, heartbreaking finale.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers (Boo). A work of narrative non-fiction that feels like a novel, Behind the Beautiful Forevers is the result of three years of on-the-ground reporting from Annawadi, a slum near the Mumbai airport, and poignantly recounts the residents' poverty, relationships, and aspirations for a better life. Elegantly written, the book paints the slum residents as complicated individuals, at points evoking pity, contempt, disgust, or amusement in the reader.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Foer). The story of nine-year-old Oskar Schell's quest for closure following his father's death in the 9/11 attacks in New York City. Oskar is a quirky, precocious, solitary kid who joins forces with an elderly shut-in to track down the lock that fits a key he discovered in his father's closet. The layered plot addresses the pain of loss through a variety of lenses, including war, terrorism, childhood, and relationships.