Minimalism is Lame and No One Should Do It

It has been a crazy past few weeks here, our family just having lost great friend and mentor Neil Ostberg. It causes a body to look down the road to perhaps one’s own demise and what will happen to a life’s work. 

There are plenty of things in these modern times telling us to be minimalists. It’s the “in” thing. How to downsize your closet. Never have more than thirty books. If you haven’t used it in a year - get rid of it. All of this while simultaneously selling mass consumerism - get every gadget you probably don’t need super fast by telling Alexa you need it so it appears on your doorstep the next day. 

Neil's Diagram of the Button Lathe
 that is now mine.

Neil(some of his work can be found here, Dude and Rusty and Pa make an appearance too), passed on like we all will someday. How we first met Neil is too early for my memory to know, but I do know it had something to do with Pa building his Kentucky long rifle. I can also remember snippets of conversations over various things Pa built over the years. "You should paint the Windsor chair black and then strip it." because that is the best finish for a Windsor chair apparently. "and why not cast a thousand brass tacks for this project?" I don’t really think the "how we met" is the important part of the story here. The important part is that Neil, like those in my family, was not a minimalist. Defiantly not. Upon his death, his widow and her children were left with masses of stuff to sort through and find new homes for his lifetime of collecting. A first look at the situation left me feeling sad and depressed. Staring at the tables filled with things that he had collected over the years, the stories they held, and the bizarre gadgets and tools few people would even be able to identify let alone what to do with. Old junk some might say. The second look at the situation brought opportunity. I realized how much Neil passed to Pa. The same sorts of tools, and a very similar style of building things. Two things, which I think I have always known, became glaringly obvious. One, minimalism is lame and no one should do it, and two, bizarre old junk is and will always be the foundation for creation, creativity, preservation, and most importantly, handwork.  

Here are my notes on the subject - 

Where a minimalist probably would have had a heart attack, there was a gathering of people and their minds to pour over Neil’s collection. Even in death this gathering of thoughts continued. What if the point is not the mountain of stuff he accumulated during his life, but the mountain on knowledge he accumulated? What if the point is not the buildings packed with tools, artifacts, and broken things, but instead things to be fixed and skills learned. More importantly, the people who learned so much from him over the years. What if it is the same is for you? Not the things in the back of your closet or the junk in your craft room, but the skills and knowledge you accumulate in your mind and hands- and, most importantly, can you have one without the other? I don’t think so.

We are all taught in some way or form to work. How to keep a tidy space, how get our school work done, how to apply ourselves to an extra curricular activity - but at the same time, few are taught what they are capable. How to make and create with our hands the way our foremothers and fathers did. Laura Ingalls Wilder committed her whole girlhood to stacks of legal pads with a pen, by hand, and I am reminded of my shortcomings as I type the story of mine on my MacBook. While I think we can take this all too far, I mean, Laura didn’t make her ink and use a homemade quill. Perhaps it is a bigger accomplishment, or even a bigger self satisfaction results in staring at a stack of legals pads filled with ones own story verses my product which is a one inch icon on the upper left corner of my home screen.  No matter what way the writing is done, there are still tools and a finished product in evidence. Is it really clutter?

Somewhere is the mess of consumerism and minimalism, we are loosing skills. Mama never learned to spin by throwing her spinning wheel onto the burn pile. Pa never learned anything because he owned less than 30 books. Even though progress demands that more skills be honed, it also demands that some be lost - unless we hide them away in out closets, craft rooms and workshops. Important to save because newer is not always better, and because there is always more than one way to do something and some things are just plain enjoyable. Too enjoyable to throw away. 

In my journey through the world of historical things, I settled into sewing and dressmaking as a comfortable spot. Through the years I have made many beautiful dresses and tailored items for menfolk. But! In 2019 I made my first gown entirely by hand sewing. An adventure into eighteenth century impressions, left me with the need and want to make a gown with the appropriate techniques. I began the intimidating project by investing in quality fabrics and turned out a nice gown I am rather proud of. So far- out of everything I have made, my eighteenth century clothing is that which I am most proud of because I made it with my hands. My many times great grandmothers sewed with the same techniques and stitches I hadn’t heard of because Singer made it easier, but not necessarily better. So, I relearned the stitches, and the gown is better for it. 

The recaned chair

We live in a consumer culture. You know why Facebook is filled with notes on purging our houses and becoming minimalist? Because there is no pride of ownership, or investment of self in plastic things from China and ikea furniture. Nothing is learned. The cure for a consumer culture isn’t minimalism, it is handwork and skill. Handwork is an investment in ourselves that cannot be undone. It helps us grow in ways that a big box store can’t. It gives us skills and teaches us life lessons along the way. The new dress or book shelf is really a bonus. And when I die, and my body is committed to the ground, and my stuff divided up, it is my hope that the skills are divided up too. Neil’s things are all scattered to the four winds now, but his knowledge and the things he taught everyone who crossed his path are all still here too. In some ways the non tangible things are attached to the tangible. I took an old chair, spinning wheel, and button lathe from the sale. I have re-caned the seat of the chair, oiled up the spinning wheel, and am still tackling the button lathe… learning lives in it still, even after all these years. If I hadn’t picked these things up from Neil I likely never would have tried any of these things, and I am sure I am not alone in this. 

My Son and the new/old
spinning wheel 

Given my experience and that of my family, I invite everyone - no - I challenge you all create with your hands. Make great-grandma’s pie recipe from scratch and bake it in her old pan - no premade crust, no instant pudding. Build that book shelf you always wanted, and don’t be afraid to carve those joints out by hand - our forefathers had spectacular tools for this that can still be found if you are willing to look. Sew the dress with just your needle, thread, and thimble. Will it be hard? Yup. Will you get super frustrated at some point? Also yes. Will you learn something? Absolutely. And will it become one of your most treasured things because of all of the challenges? Defiantly! 

When someone close to you passes on, take one of their torches and keep it lit. Light someone else’s torch with yours, and pass it on. Lest we forget what out hands and minds can do.