From 51 pairs of shoes to fewer than 40 clothing items in total

How many pairs of shoes do you own?

I used to own 51. That’s a lot of footprint before I’d taken a single step.

Today my entire wardrobe, shoes included, comes in under 40 items. My life didn’t shrink. It got bigger.

It started one morning. I woke up, looked around and realized I never wore most of my shoes. They no longer fit. Not my feet. My life.

Some designs were out of fashion, some matched nothing I owned anymore and some came from brands I’d boycotted.

I sold a few, because I needed the money and they were classics. The rest I gave away.

People call this minimalism. I never thought the word hit hard enough. It sounds like a look, white walls and a lone plant. But you can empty an apartment and refill it every season.

I wasn’t chasing a look. Everything I owned went on trial, and one question decided the verdict. What does this cost me and the planet? Whatever couldn’t plead its case left. That’s what I call essentialism.

So I own the essentials and nothing extra. When I need something, I buy it second hand or I buy it built to last. I repair what breaks and repurpose what can’t be fixed. Quality costs more up front and less over time, so frugal and eco-friendly end up on the same side.

I still own stuff. I’m not claiming a perfect score. I just make every piece earn its place.

Every purchase is a vote and so is every refusal. Buy less and the market shrinks. Buy better and it rewires. Some companies will close and others will learn to build things that last.

It worked before. In 1988 a coalition of environmental groups called for a boycott of the tuna companies. In April 1990 StarKist, the world’s largest canner, announced it would stop buying tuna caught along with dolphins. The industry followed. By November Congress had written the label into law. Buyers moved first and the law made it stick.

But markets answer to profit first. Every market runs on rules, and the only question is who writes them. So we also need laws. Ban planned obsolescence. Make repair the default. Buyers who change their habits are the ones with the leverage to demand them.

One person can’t do that alone, but one person can be the first of many. I believe in the power of the individual, and I know it multiplies when others follow.

It also helps to have the money to buy well, so that power isn’t spread evenly. I’m not selling a cure. I’m describing what I can control, and asking you to help me ask for the rest.

What I don’t spend on things goes to experiences and charity. Board games. Bowling with friends. Sports. Volunteering. Every week. Memories don’t need a closet.

I do still travel, but slowly. I pack light and stay long, because a flight can cost the planet more than a closet ever did. Travel isn’t the point, and I’m not selling it.

Owning less quieted my head too. Less stuff means less to maintain and less to worry about. I started out running from a stressful, expensive way of living. I found a calmer version of myself instead.

I’m not there yet. Excellence is a religious principle for me, and so is adding value to other people’s lives. Owning less leaves more time and money to give.

Turns out the best way to leave a smaller footprint is to own fewer shoes.

Teekay