10 things I no longer buy as a "minimalist"

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve become something of a “minimalist.” I use quotations because I don’t love the word—it’s been overused, packaged, and sold back to us in countless forms.

For me, it isn’t about counting how many items I own or making my home look like a magazine spread. It’s about letting go of excess so I can spend more time, money, and energy on what truly matters.

Anyway, over the years, I’ve stopped buying certain things. Some changes were obvious, others surprised me. These shifts haven’t just decluttered my life—they’ve saved me hundreds of dollars every year.

Here are ten of them. Maybe they’ll help you too.

1. Trendy clothes

Do you ever look back at old photos and cringe at what you were wearing? I certainly have. Fast fashion thrives on that cycle—convincing us we’re out of style within months.

I used to buy trendy tops or dresses for events, only to wear them once or twice before they felt outdated. Now, I stick to simple, versatile pieces that can be dressed up or down. A classic pair of jeans, a navy blazer, and neutral tops carry me further than any short-lived trend ever could.

2. Multiples of the same thing

There was a time when I had three different spatulas, four nearly identical face creams, and backup sets of towels that never saw daylight.

Why? Because somewhere along the way I convinced myself “more” meant “prepared.”

But duplicates usually sit untouched. Now I ask myself: Do I really need two of this? If not, I skip it. One good version is almost always enough.

3. Souvenirs

On past trips, I would bring home mugs, magnets, or t-shirts as proof of my travels. The problem? They often ended up collecting dust or shoved in the back of a cupboard.

These days, my souvenirs are photos, journal entries, and memories. Occasionally, I’ll buy something consumable—a bottle of local olive oil, handmade soap, or a bag of spices. Things I can actually use instead of store.

The joy of travel is in the experience itself, not the trinkets I carry home.

4. Seasonal décor

Do I need a box of Halloween knick-knacks or Easter figurines that only see daylight for two weeks a year? For me, the answer is no.

Instead, I decorate with nature—branches, fresh flowers, or seasonal produce from the farmers’ market. They bring life to my home without requiring storage bins in the attic.

Minimalism taught me that “celebrating the season” doesn’t have to mean buying more.

5. Books I’ll never read again

This one was tough. As someone who loves books, I used to think shelves packed with titles were a badge of honor. But the reality? Most sat untouched.

Now I borrow from the library or buy digital copies. If I purchase a physical book, I make sure it’s one I’ll return to or lend out.

As Marie Kondo has famously said, “Keep only those things that speak to your heart.” For me, that means a handful of favorites I revisit, not every book I’ve ever bought.

6. Expensive skincare experiments

At one point, my bathroom looked like a mini Sephora. I’d try serums, masks, and creams that promised miracles. Most didn’t deliver.

These days, I’ve simplified my routine to a few reliable products. Sunscreen, a gentle cleanser, and moisturizer do the heavy lifting. Not only has my skin improved, but my wallet has too.

Marketing thrives on our insecurities. Once I stepped back, I realized how little I actually needed.

7. Excess kitchen gadgets

I used to fall for the hype: spiralizers, avocado slicers, single-use appliances. Most were bulky, hard to clean, and rarely used.

Now I stick to the basics: a good knife, cutting board, cast-iron skillet, and blender. They handle 95% of what I need.

The truth is, fewer tools often make me more creative in the kitchen. Instead of reaching for a gadget, I’ve learned to adapt with what I already have.

8. Subscription overload

A few years back, I realized I was paying for half a dozen subscriptions I barely used. Streaming services, digital magazines, monthly boxes—they quietly drained my bank account.

These days, I allow myself one or two that I actually enjoy and cancel the rest. If I miss one badly, I can always resubscribe. But usually? I don’t.

It’s worth asking yourself: Am I using this enough to justify the cost?

9. Impulse décor purchases

I used to walk into Target or IKEA and leave with candles, throw pillows, or decorative bowls I hadn’t planned on buying. They looked cute in the moment, but after a few months, they’d feel like clutter.

Now, I give myself a rule: no “just because” décor. If I truly need to refresh a space, I’ll plan it out and make intentional choices.

The result? A calmer home with pieces that actually mean something to me.

10. Gifts for the sake of gifting

This one has been a game-changer, especially around the holidays. I used to stress about finding the perfect item for everyone, which often led to buying things just to cross names off a list.

These days, I prefer giving experiences—dinners out, event tickets, or donations to causes my loved ones care about. And when people ask what I want, I usually request the same.

It feels more meaningful, and it avoids the cycle of clutter disguised as generosity.

Final thoughts

Minimalism doesn’t mean deprivation. It means choosing with intention.

The ten things I’ve stopped buying haven’t made my life smaller—they’ve made it bigger. I spend less money, own fewer things I don’t use, and have more energy for what actually matters.

If you’ve ever felt weighed down by clutter or tired of spending on things that don’t truly add value, I encourage you to experiment. Start small. Notice how it feels to let go of one category of “default purchases.”

You may find, as I did, that life feels lighter when you stop buying what you never needed in the first place.