Like so many things in my life that I write about, DIY remains a constant struggle between who I am and who I want to be. I have plenty of reasons to reduce my consumption- mainly environmental and economical (personally and politically)- and like the great Charles Bukowski said, I hate being a buyer needing a seller. But I slack on the alternatives. I’m envious of both those who can purchase freely without hesitation and those who have a burning creativity inside that automatically translates into DIY. Me? I end up with piles of unsewn ripped jeans, socks years past their usefulness and anxiety over the few new things I actually have to go to the store and purchase for full price.
At our new house I finally got my room (somewhat) set up three weeks after moving in. I had searched for some furniture, but in not finding anything came up with this hanging system (my room doesn’t have a closet) and desk with stuff I found in the house.
The rack is straight bars slid into 1-inch forks and hung with hooks. The desk is a closet door balanced on a filing cabinet and crates. It’s somewhere between punk/DIY and ‘post-college’ chic. Most importantly it forced me to bridge the gap between what I want to see and what I do.