l e f t - s i d e

When I moved to San Francisco from Oakland my rent doubled. And while my income had remained the same I wasn’t totally out of luck. Just a few months prior, I had moved from Brooklyn to Oakland. There was no moving trucks or huge shipping boxes. I threw away, gifted, and donated most of what I owned. The excersice left me with a profound sense of freedom and lightness. I was shocked. 

Most of the stuff you buy makes you happy twice, once shortly after you buy it, and a second time when you finally throw it out. All the time in the middle, the ownership, by the time the stuff has become part of your normal life, it is no longer exciting. And like me, you understand that, or think you do. But as an excercise, packing up your belongings and throwing out most of what you own, puts this principle into sharp focus and cements it into your mind far more effectively than any spring cleaning or garage sale can. So when it came time to buy furniture for my new overpriced San Francisco studio, I knew I wanted something simple, affordable, and disposable. I was free for what felt like the first time in my life, and I wasn’t about to give that up for a dressor and shelves, come on. An idea hit me like all my bad ideas, suddenly and followed by obsession–milk crates! First I looked on craigslist, and the container store, and target, but then I realized, wait… I went to the corner store and asked if they had some extra milk crates lying around. The guy behind the corner flipped the lights on in a back room, and my eyes lit up. It took me a few days and 5 trips to bring all 16 empty milk crates up the apartment. 

For the next three months, this was the only furniture I had in the studio, besides my mattress, and a matchstick table. Those crates were my shelves, dresser, and entertainment center. They were cheap (free), unique, functional, and disponsable, and as it happens, illegal. The dairy distributor would be eager to take them back off my hands when they found out that I was done using them.  Life was good. But soon opportunity came knocking. My girlfriend, Claire, was visiting San Francisco  from Los Angeles often and being that she works all the time and everywhere, she was working from the bed, while I luxuriated at my office. This wouldn’t do. I decided that we needed a desk solution. I took some inspiration from a friend, called in a favor from another, and starting building this desk. In the end it took a bit longer than expected, 4 days, and a bit more money, $400 (mahogany). But now, Claire has a place to sit that is meaningful, unique, affordable, functional, and legal.  My takeaways from the experience? 1. Get rid of everything that isn’t meaningful, useful, functional and legal in your life.