At the end of each school year, a mass influx of sales pervades email chains and social media of items that college students want to get rid of. Basement trash rooms overflow with shelving, carpets, clothes, and other objects students either do not want or do not have the ability to store. Purchasing cheap room decor in September to only throw it out in June produces an inevitable cycle, making it difficult to believe it is even possible to be a minimalist college student.
Nationally, college students have a spending power of $583 billion. While a large portion of this money goes to staples such as food, laptops, and travel, a considerable amount funds the consumption of disposable and avoidable material goods. It is estimated that students spend nearly $160 on new clothing during each back-to-school season. This value varies across sexual expectations, personal preferences, and financial abilities—as a girl, there is pressure to never wear the same thing twice. Themed parties and costumed opportunities force me to scramble to find something different in my closet each time.
While college students no longer are able to raid their parents’ closets, they can often turn to their friends. Yet when all else fails, cheap online options can reliably promise a reasonable delivery time. Fast fashion companies like Shein or Forever 21 offer quick, cheap solutions, despite their contributions to global waste. Because of the little value and utility of these often hastily purchased items, their shelf life will rarely last longer than six months in my closet, either as a result of being lost or ruined.
The next battle is the dorm. Most experts recommend buying new sheets every two to three years in order to prevent the accumulation of dust mites and other allergy triggers. While Harvard does provide storage space, students will also need supplies, trash bags, bath products, and other items to keep themselves and their living space clean. Not to mention room decor—which has an average cost of $1,367 nationally per person each year. This is a sizable amount, but dorm decor can either enhance or inhibit concentration and creativity when studying in your room.
The commonly recommended opposition against the excessive accumulation of goods is to shrink a wardrobe to 37 items. While this number is intended to create ten reusable outfits and reduce clutter in a closet, it also insinuates the sacrifice of outfit variability that students, specifically women, are expected to acquire. Due to a lack of excess personal funds or a tendency to get lost, college students do not typically want to invest in long-term pieces that can be worn multiple times. Moreover, the unpredictability of housing and employment limits the ability to maintain large closets of staple products. In the debate between long-term and convenience, the latter often wins for the sake of wearing the “right” thing.
Minimalism can be achieved in college and at Harvard, but often with a sacrifice for appreciating the small and frivolous things. If I had stuck to the same 37 items since I moved in as a first-year, I would not have been able to represent the experiences or growth I have made since then. Minimalism comes into conflict with the transformative environment of college; trying to focus on consuming so little draws focus from discovering more about yourself in true collegiate spirit. There is beauty in discovering your style, not just with clothing, but through every other avenue of expression available.
Kate Oliver ’26 (koliver@college.harvard.edu) still wears sweaters she bought in 8th grade.