I'm a Maximalist

I’m a maximalist.

I own more clothes than fit in a standard-sized closet, and I have many pairs of shoes. I have a lot of books on astrology and wellness, and more than a few cookbooks stacked up in the kitchen. I love tea and buy it often, and my home apothecary is robust with remedies, from flower essences to herbals.

We moved, downsizing from a house we stumbled upon mid-pandemic, to something a little more us. We finally had the desire to be back in the heart of the city, and this also meant we’d inevitably have to sacrifice our amount of space.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with things. I am all at once ashamed and proud of my collections. I am not a hoarder, and I get nervous by the mere thought of it. I don’t own a ton, but I own enough. I guess I might have a bit of a scarcity complex (we all have something, right?). The thing is, I’ve collected my things over my years on this planet, and although I don’t hold on to everything, I do hold on to things that have stories. If you ask me why I have it, I will most always have an answer. I guess that makes me a maximalist, and recently, I am falling more in love with this trait.

The thing is, maximalism is kind of special. It’s cozy and inviting. It says, “come in, I’ll serve you tea and good cookies” and, “let’s have a variety of cheese and fresh fruits on a beautiful platter.” Maximalism is the friend who has a jovial way of moving through life, and is always someone you can rely on. Maximalism is maternal. It’s a warm hug and leads to good, juicy stories.

My version of maximalism is in hosting gatherings— a table filled with copious amounts of salads, fruits, breads, and pastries. It’s holding a friend in a warm embrace and giving them two cheek kisses, one on either side. It’s wanting everything and everyone to feel welcomed. A soda drink filled with fruits and topped with flowers and loads of garnishes. It’s a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Maximalism is who I am at my core, and I am proud of it.

So in the spirit of being my truest self, I will continue to wear all of my over-the-top dresses, and lots of rings, each one with a story to tell. (Ask me about them, they really do have great stories.) Gone are the days of guilting myself to get rid of things just to be more minimal, and welcome to my lived-in, vibe-y, colorful life, with all of its plushy quirks and imperfections.