Big Hair, Bigger Houses, and the Art of Letting Go

Daily Prompt 2781: Do You Believe in Minimalism?

By the time I was married and settling into my first home, the 1980s were in full swing. Everything was BIG. Bigger was better. Flashier was fabulous. Subtlety wasn’t exactly trending.

Even designers known for a more classic look were thinking on a grand scale. Ralph Lauren may have been more understated than some of his competitors, but there was nothing minimal about the price tag.

Houses in my area seemed to grow overnight. Once-modest Capes and Ranches were transformed into sprawling “McMansions” complete with five or six bedrooms, multiple en suites, and enough Jacuzzi tubs to start a small water park. Hot tubs appeared in backyards like dandelions in spring.

It was easy to get swept up in this larger-than-life lifestyle.

And swept up I was.

My love of shopping reached new heights in the late 1980s. Before the internet, there were catalogs stacked on coffee tables and weekends spent roaming the mall. Nail salons began popping up in every strip mall. Long acrylic nails in bright colors were practically required. It was fast, fun, and unapologetically over the top.

I was all in.

Picture it: a head full of curls that added several inches to my height, a Chevy Camaro, Madonna’s “Material Girl” blasting through the speakers, and Happy Hour somewhere along Long Island’s South Shore.

Life was about accumulating. Stuff wasn’t just stuff—it was success.

Then came 1995.

We bought our first house—a modest three-bedroom, one-bath ranch located mid-block on the very street where I grew up. For those of you who have been reading along for a while, this was the house that sat at Third Base during our neighborhood kickball games.

The price was right. The location was perfect.

We gutted it room by room and slowly made it our own. Infertility treatments were consuming much of our savings, so any dreams of creating a mini mansion would have to wait. Looking back, that turned out to be a blessing.

The years passed and eventually the kids arrived.

Along with the kids came more stuff.

My clothing collection migrated to the basement where everything was neatly organized. Winter wardrobes swapped effortlessly with summer wardrobes. I had bins, systems, categories, and labels. It was practically a retail operation.

Then Jules went away to college.

Every time she came home, she brought more belongings. The basement accepted each new arrival like an overbooked hotel somehow finding room for one more guest.

Then COVID arrived.

Suddenly we were all home. All the time.

The walls started feeling a little closer.

Determined not to give up my daily workouts, I found an incredible gym program on Zoom. The only problem was that I didn’t particularly want my fellow exercisers staring at my carefully stacked clothing bins every morning. So I carved out a sleek little workout space that looked far more impressive on camera than the rest of the basement.

It worked beautifully.

For about eighteen months.

Then one day I read an article about an artist in New York City who had passed away. Everything she owned was emptied from her apartment and piled curbside. The photographs were heartbreaking. An entire life reduced to mountains of possessions stretching down the block.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Who was going to clear out my forever when I was gone?

Certainly not my children.

Years of watching HGTV and countless decluttering videos and podcasts had entertained me, but none of them prepared me for that realization.

Then I discovered The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson.

Despite the dramatic title, it isn’t about scrubbing floors or polishing furniture. It’s about intentionally reducing what you own so the people you love aren’t left with the overwhelming task of sorting through a lifetime of belongings after you’re gone.

The concept hit me like a ton of decorative throw pillows.

This process has been life-changing.

I’ve looked around my home and realized just how much unnecessary spending has occurred since about 1988. Some of it made sense. Much of it didn’t. Yet every object seemed to come attached to a memory, a season, or a version of myself that I wasn’t quite ready to release.

But little by little, I’m learning.

I’m not talking about moving into one of those Tiny Houses that seem to be all the rage. I still enjoy my creature comforts. I simply want less clutter, less maintenance, less excess, and more room to breathe.

Funny enough, my hair has already come down a few inches from its 1980s peak. Perhaps it’s only fitting that the rest of my life follows suit.

These days, I don’t think minimalism is about owning as little as possible. It’s about being intentional. It’s about making room for what matters and letting go of what doesn’t. The memories aren’t in the bins, the closets, or the boxes stacked in the basement. They’re in the stories, the laughter, the photographs, and the people who shared those moments with us. If I’ve learned anything during this journey, it’s that a life well-lived isn’t measured by how much we accumulate. It’s measured by what we leave behind in the hearts of the people we love.

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Author: KikiFikar

Kiki Fikar is a native New Yorker who is passionate about taking the day to day life we all experience and sharing it in her tales from Suburbia. She will often be found at the gym, writing snippets each day for future story lines, listening to her two children create their lives, and building the perfect beachfront home and writing retreat in her mind.

27 thoughts on “Big Hair, Bigger Houses, and the Art of Letting Go”

  2. Kev – coincidentally I’m getting my nails done (yes I finished this piece in a nail salon) and I just snorted. Thank you! Lol Hope you are having a great week!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That’s really a very interesting journey! Everything was way different back then. You are right when you said that minimalism means being intentional and not having as less as possible. Minimalism gives you a clear mind, as well as discipline.

    I’m sorry because I missed your last post but my holidays started on May 26th and it was so impressive and full of great moments.

    Enjoy your awesome week! ☺️

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Absolutely perfectly said. Cleaning out my mother’s apartment when she died was an eye opener. We really think about anything we buy that isn’t a replacement, and are slowly getting rid of stuff. But as for the nails…😂

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  6. Oh yes we were! Spiegal! Omg forgot that one! There was actually a catalogue that put together outfits much like the layouts on Pinterest with complete sets, including jewelry and other accessories. I cannot remember the name of it for the life of me, but I absolutely loved it!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This truly is an eye opener! I think it’s also helping my daughter to see what is happening at the same age I was when I started accumulating said stuff.

    Thank you so very much for reading and being here with me! ❤️

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  9. What a cool journey Kiki. I’m with you. I worry about “a life reduced to a mountain of possessions.” I sometimes get caught up in the memories. It seems like everything has some kind of memory attached to it. I love how you phrased it though. The memories are in the laughs, the people!!! (I excluded photos because that’s a weakness of mine. I can’t get rid of them. Ha, ha.) Great timing though. I need to start attacking our basement. Thank you for the motivation!!!!

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  10. Ahh, The 1980’s… If we can turn back the clock… I love the reminder that the value of our lives is not found in what we collect but in the people we love and the memories we share. Sometimes letting go of things creates more room for what truly matters. ❤️🙏🏻

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  11. You are welcome! Because I always like to turn things into a positive… I know that your attack of the basement will bring us more stories. You will come across things that you have not seen in ages and perhaps craft a story or what the memory means to you. There is so much life still left in all of our things and as we work through to move them to a different place. We are reminded of how they shaped our lives or wrote the previous chapters. Good luck my friend! I’ll be waiting!

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  12. Oh my friend you are so right. I’ve also discovered that taking pictures of items helps. Digital space is far better than physical space!!! Hope you are doing great! ❤️❤️❤️

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  13. It’s funny you mention blog posts. I keep saying I want to attack our basement for that very reason. I know there are ton of ideas ready to just jump out at me. Old photo albums stacked away will be at least a years worth of posts alone. Ha, ha.

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  15. ha glad you got a chuckle. Hope the nails came out well. Quite a skill doing a post and your nails at the samew time. I’m also a bit disturbed I’m talking about nails.

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  23. I think if we were neighbors, we’d spend all our time BSing and never getting anything done 😂 I have also been on a decluttering kick, and like you, appreciate the thoughts and memories associated with certain things. It’s very hard for me to throw sentimental things away, but I am making progress with my “I might use/try/want” someday stuff. I remember the 80s so well…VH-1, “sharing” cable with your friends next door, being kind and rewinding, the JC Penney catalog. Great stuff, Kiki, I’ll hafta look for the story about your house sitting where third base once was.

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  26. I forgot to mention, JB is always singing about new horizons, what’s around the corner, stoked about life. Songs like Changes in Latitudes (“There’s just too much to see/waiting in front of me”), Cowboy in the Jungle
    (“And still 24 hours, maybe sixty good years, it’s still not that long a stay”), etc… he’s one of my favs 😎

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