Greetings, Tribe. I hope the C&C Challenge is going well. The comments have been absolutely hysterically funny, making me think that abstaining from Complaining and Criticizing has been just as daunting a task for others as it has been for me.
Good. Misery loves company.
Seriously, it’s been a huge benefit to me to adopt silence over negative comments. I’m sure I’ve fallen short a couple of times, but overall, I’m meeting the challenge head on, with moderate success.
I recently had a few conversations–two in person, one on Skype–in which the correlation between attending boarding school and being more or less a ‘minimalist’ was discussed. All three people with whom I spoke thought that their experience in boarding school made them less attached to material possessions, more sensitive to clutter, and more oblivious to creature comforts (or any comfort at all, in one case.)
Of course, wearing a uniform for 4 years or more could lead to a certain detachment with regards to clothing: a certain ‘functionality quotient’ sets in, programming the student to simply dress in clothes that are functional or appropriate for the occasion, and nothing more.
The limited space of a shared dorm room could also strip the mind of any attraction to surplus material things that are not necessary to daily work or living. Also, the communal setting could limit the practicality of possessing things of any value, as those things could disappear through theft or be damaged by classmates.
Finally, living for an extended period of time in a structured environment that relentlessly pushes education and accomplishment over decoration and display would iron out almost any inclination toward conspicuous consumption…or even personal preference.
Peer pressure would also be a factor: if no one else has anything of value in their living space, why attract unwanted attention by standing out as a freshman and invite trouble? What’s the point in having material things that aren’t necessary in daily living?
Two of the three boarding school alums that I spoke with were adamant that their experience at boarding school fully contributed to their apathy regarding material things they exhibited now as adults. Not that they didn’t appreciate nice things; they just didn’t get the sense of fulfillment that many people get from nice furniture, clothes, or cars.
One of them thought that their might be a correlation, but wasn’t willing to commit to the boarding school connection as it related to his disinterest in material things. (He thinks that his aversion to creature comforts was a reaction to a gilded childhood raised in a luxurious NYC apartment full of Sotheby’s auction-quality sofas, armchairs, rugs, and art.)
All of them dress Old Money Style/preppy basics without fanfare and barely with any interest at all. Their living environments are spartan. Furnishings run from a notch above Ikea to frumpy hand-me-downs from ancestors. Closets are half full. Kitchens border on empty. The only items taking up an inordinate amount of space are books.
The institutional imprint appears obvious, as does the benefit: the preoccupation with superfluous material possessions is absent. One less distraction in life. The expense often associated ownership was absent. More economical. (Only one of the three people I spoke with owned a car. One lived in a pedestrian city. The third borrowed his parents car or used Uber when required. “I can’t be bothered,” was his comment.)
Finally, the idea of peer pressure relating to the possession of things is nonexistent. The concept of status abstract. The idea of keeping up with the Joneses comical.
All in all, not a bad by-product of a boarding school education.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, especially if you’ve attended boarding school, or know someone who has.
Is my mini-survey representative of the experience? Or just a one-off?
- BGT
I grew up in a consumer home. My mother was dirt poor growing up. Every holiday had several boxes of decorations assigned to it. Her closet was filled to bursting with multiple pairs of black shoes in various designs. There was also seasonal decor changes such as pillows and knickknacks which had nothing to do with a specific holiday. Pastel candles for springs, earthy colors for autumn, etc. Art was either changed out or covered in wrapping paper. She spent a considerable amount of time switching everything, including her wardrobe, from one season/holiday, to the next. She continued this trend over to my domiciles. I get it. But I eventually grew to hate it. When my husband and I entertained I was concerned about presenting a well appointed home. Not so much these days now that it is just us. Cleaning and organizing is so much easier when you do not burden yourself with endless boxes of decorations.
So much stress has been removed from my life by not fretting over “seasonal” decor. Donating decorations is liberating. How many pumpkin knickknacks does one need? I have one pair of shoes and I mostly dress in black. The mental load removed by not giving in to this odd bit of consumerism is the thing I did not know I needed until it happened. More purging happening as I move along through the rooms of the house. Except for books. Always there must be books!
(Salty Sophia, not myrtle)
I’m an OMG, I went to boarding school and I live very much as you have described. I think your observation is accurate but for me the experience of growing up in an old money family was much more influential in forming my lifestyle preferences than was boarding school. I think boarding school does impart an understanding of the superfluousness of most material possessions, but I think many of my classmates regarded the somewhat spartan living conditions as a temporary inconvenience and I don’t know how much lasting impact it had on them.
It’s also not just the enforced minimalism of boarding school. If one’s education imbues one with an understanding that a life of the mind and being involved with people, activities and causes that one cares about are ultimately the most important things in life, then material possessions become relatively less important.
I don’t think it’s minimalism for the sake of minimalism. I think it’s an attitude that, to the extent that people admire you it should be for your character and your accomplishments. Having more things doesn’t make you richer than other people and being rich doesn’t make you better than other people. It’s just stuff.
I did not go to boarding school, but I did go to a private school with a strict dress code. That certainly has informed the way I dress today, as a young man in my 20s. I’m comfortable in khakis and an OCBD, for example, all day and the evening, I don’t have to change out of “work clothes” immediately because I am just comfortable. There is something familiar about it even.
My view is that the boarding school experiences of earlier generations were very different to what they are today. Boarding schools, and I can only speak of the British type or British-rooted type in the fifties and sixties were mostly tough, harsh environments. Today, from what I observe watching schools rugby on Saturdays the boys seem to have much more joie de Vivre than when I was at a school. Whether boarding schools did and/or still engender a sense of minimalism and ascetic habits is I think an open-ended question and will vary greatly according to individual experience.
There’s definitely a pleasure from collecting. And from learning about the materials and process of well tailored clothing. But. There’s an upper limit to both. Once you reach it you either stop replenishing or replace less often. Eventually as you need less space you learn to keep those few items of art, clothing, and consumer goods that you absolutely love.
Such an interesting post, Byron. Two of my friends have kids currently in non-elite boarding schools, and their experience is not as spartan as you describe. I personally didn’t attend boarding school, so I look forward to your readers chiming in.
As an aside, my family and I just came back from visiting LA, your old stomping grounds. My, what a different culture from the northeast! We visited some colleges, toured the Getty Center and ate our way through Sawtelle. I thoroughly enjoyed it
Boarding school crushes bougie/consumerist myths. First, uniforms level status-flexing. Second, no matter how wealthy your family is, there’s always that quiet kid who dresses like a homeless person and flies to Christmas skiing on Daddy’s Gulfstream. It’s a community where a $500 pair of Nike’s is useless, and just embarrassing.
What an interesting question, but no, I do not believe correlation equals causation. If anything, my own experience has shown me that OMGs can be just as frivolous as the nouveau riche.
My mother is an OMG, and an only child, who attended a well regarded southern parochial school K-8 and then attended a new concept public school rather than attend one of the elite day prep schools (one co-ed, one girls only) in her hometown. Many families of the day did the same and the public high school had a stellar reputation for decades until it merged with another area school, but I digress.
My mother was a very sick little girl with a rare congenital disease that she shouldn’t have survived and thus the reason for her only childhood; she was never told no due to this as well, and was more or less mildly neglected by my grandparents after she was about 15 due to a divorce. Instead she was showered with luxurious gifts such as a very fast, very new, first generation sports car she had no business driving to make up for the fact that my grandfather was no longer emotionally or physically around. She married my father at age 19, and I was born the following year, just before her 20th birthday.
My father was the oldest of 7 kids in a poor Catholic family, and joined the navy because it was the only way to better himself. My dad was the one who actually totaled my mother’s fancy car, and my grandfather paid off the judge. After that something in my dad shifted; he stopped doing stupid and dangerous things. This was before my arrival and before they got married. After my brothers and I came along, my dad would be gone for months at a time on sea duty, sending home checks to my mom to pay the bills. She never did; she spent it all on things we didn’t need. She never really grew up. She used my and my brothers’ identities to open lines of credit. The house was constantly in danger of being foreclosed on. My brothers and I also attended parochial schools, and even the same high school my mom attended; we grew up sailing, riding, taking cotillion and etiquette, and wanted for nothing – I later found out most of this was paid for by my grandfather.
By fifteen my parents had also divorced. This happened because my dad was an abusive husband, and my mom finally found the strength to leave. My father was suddenly absent and my mother regressed into a party girl. I found myself working three jobs to pay rent, I didn’t have a car and had to walk everywhere. I learned my parents had used our college funds to pay for their (what would eventually add up to) 6 year divorce, and because of my mom’s fraudulent activity in my childhood, my credit was wrecked. By age 17 I had to drop out of school. I always managed to stay on top, and without the help of my grandfather, who allowed his wife to influence his level of involvement with his grandchildren. (They wouldn’t help me because I decided to become a teacher – they wanted me to be a lawyer.) In fact if anyone helped it was my grandmother who was long divorced from him. She helped get me into college, get my license and a car, and a place to stay when I couldn’t afford to work and attend school.
My husband comes from a low income family like my father, and was always looked to by his mother as a provider. We got married young (I was 23, he was 25) and he is indeed a motivated, stable, responsible provider. He is, much more than me, able to live a less comfortable lifestyle, indeed almost preferring it. Sometimes I wonder if he does it to punish himself or to see if he can still do it. We struggled financially for ten years before we finally hit our stride. Much of my adult life alongside him has been committed to rebuilding the OM legacy gifted to my family from the American Revolution on.
Sometimes I am resentful of my mom who to this day can’t manage her finances enough to come see her grandchildren, but can afford eyelash extensions and cosmetic surgery. But mostly I view this story as the facts of my life. I have unfortunately learned bad money management habits from her which I have spent my whole life trying to correct. Still, I have hope that my husband and I can save what’s left of the reputation…and maybe even build a new one of our own.
Minimalism for myself was something I was really into from 2016-2022, and I still find value in it, but I also enjoy fashion and collecting certain things – but as a commenter above posted, one has to recognize when a collection must conclude to its natural end. For example I have an antique key collection. I do not collect keys any longer, same with my vintage globes. I arrived where I wanted to and stopped collecting. But again, as previous person said…I never stop collecting books!
PS…the average American home has 300,000 items in it!
Thank you, Sass. An incredible story, and one I’m sure our readers will appreciate. Continued success. – BGT
I don’t come from Old Money. Dad was a doctor, so we were comfortable, but neither Mom nor Dad were the least bit materialistic. Dad loved antiques and collected a few, but that was his only vice. They both loved to save and invest, however, and we, their children, benefitted from that.