
I read Marie Kondo. I perved at minimalist pinterest pins. I oogled tiny houses. But when all our shit arrived off the boat from Scotland, I was delighted to meet my 14 winter coats again. Now I just have to find the box with boots in it.
I read Marie Kondo. I perved at minimalist pinterest pins. I oogled tiny houses. But when all our shit arrived off the boat from Scotland, I was delighted to meet my 14 winter coats again. Now I just have to find the box with boots in it.
This could be a meme about loss or regret. Or a meaningful post about life and moving on, or imperfection and making do. But it’s really just a worn through muslin that thanks to some BONKERS reflex action keeps getting pegged back on the line. Like it’s made of fucking gold or something.