How one simple bag transformed my relationship with “stuff” and taught me the art of intentional living.
Here’s an embarrassing confession: Six months ago, I owned 23 bags.
I had work totes, gym bags, beach bags, grocery bags, and bags I kept “just in case.” Every morning, I’d transfer items between bags—phone charger, wallet, keys, lip balm—a daily ritual of inefficiency I’d somehow normalized.
One Tuesday, while emptying my fourth bag of the week searching for my house keys, I had a thought: What if I just… carried one bag? Everywhere?
So I tried an experiment: 30 days, one tote bag, zero excuses.
Work presentations. Grocery runs. Coffee dates. Weekend markets. One bag for everything.
I chose a versatile canvas tote with interior pockets—spacious enough for daily essentials, structured enough to look intentional, with natural materials that could transition from professional to casual without thinking.
What I expected: mild inconvenience and maybe some organizational tips.
What I got: a complete mindset shift about what we actually need to carry through life.
Week 1: The Panic Purge
The first three days, I overcompensated wildly.
Because my tote could fit a laptop, gym shoes, lunch, AND groceries, I convinced myself I needed ALL of those things. Every day. Just in case.
By day three, my shoulder ached and my bag weighed twelve pounds. I was lugging around an emergency kit, two books I “might read,” backup shoes, three snacks, and a water bottle I kept forgetting to drink from.
The lesson hit hard: Having space doesn’t mean you need to fill it.
On day four, I dumped everything onto my kitchen table and asked one brutal question about each item: “Have I actually used this in the last three days?”
Sixty percent? No.
Out went the “emergency” makeup I never touched up, two extra pens, the unread book, week-old receipts, and duplicate toiletries.
What stayed: wallet, phone, charger, one notebook, one pen, water bottle, keys, sunglasses, and a small pouch for genuine emergencies (tissues, band-aids, hair tie).
My bag suddenly weighed three pounds instead of twelve. My shoulder pain disappeared.
And I didn’t miss a single thing I removed.
The revelation: I’d been carrying anxiety, not needs. Every “just in case” item was insurance against imagined disasters that rarely materialized.
Week 2: Constraints Create Clarity
Week two brought my first real test: the gym.
I tried three approaches:
Attempt 1: Stuffed gym clothes in my tote. Arrived at work with a wrinkled blouse and suspicious sneaker smell. ❌
Attempt 2: Wore workout clothes under my outfit. Felt sweaty all day. ❌
Attempt 3: Went to the gym before work instead of after. Carried minimal essentials—small towel, water bottle, sneakers (worn), fresh underwear. Changed at gym, wore gym clothes home. ✅
But here’s what really happened: The constraint forced me to evaluate whether I actually needed the gym that day.
Before, I’d carry a packed gym bag “just in case,” even when I had zero intention of working out. It was aspirational cargo.
With one bag, I had to choose consciously: Gym today, or not? Sometimes the answer was no—and that was okay.
The lesson: Constraints don’t limit you—they clarify what matters.
Then came the grocery store test.
On day ten, I shopped after work and mindlessly filled a cart like always. At checkout, the cashier handed me three plastic bags. Then I remembered: I’m supposed to use my tote.
My eco-friendly canvas shopping tote held maybe one-and-a-half bags’ worth of groceries.
I stared at my cart. Did I really need three types of crackers? Backup almond milk? Impulse candy?
I put back 40% of my cart. Everything I actually needed fit perfectly in my tote.
And I saved Rs 3500 that trip.
The tote became my built-in budget regulator, forcing me to ask: Do I need this, or am I just filling space?
Week 3: The Identity Shift
Around week three, people started complimenting my bag.
Not because it was designer—it wasn’t. Simple natural cotton canvas, neutral tone, with thoughtful details like coconut button closures and contrast handles that showed quality without being flashy. But what they noticed was the intention behind it.
I wasn’t frantically juggling multiple bags. I wasn’t searching through four pockets for my phone. I’d reach into my tote and immediately find what I needed thanks to the organized interior pockets.
I looked put together. Calm. Intentional.
A colleague asked, “How are you always so organized?”
I laughed. “It’s not that I’m more organized. I just carry less stuff.”
“But what if you need something?”
“Then I handle it in the moment. But honestly? I almost never actually need the things I used to carry just in case.”
By the end of week three, my tote became part of my identity.
Decision fatigue disappeared—no more “which bag today?” I grabbed my tote and left.
I valued the bag more. When you have one bag, you take better care of it. I cleaned it regularly, organized it nightly, treated it with respect. The durable cotton canvas material made maintenance easy—I could spot-clean stains and it aged beautifully rather than looking worn out.
I became more present. Without the mental load of managing multiple bags, I had brain space for actual thoughts.
Week 4: The Unexpected Freedom
On day 24, I took a weekend trip.
Old me would have packed: one large suitcase, one carry-on, one purse, one tote for extras, probably a backup bag “just in case.”
New me? One small suitcase and my spacious everyday tote (which doubled as my plane personal item AND day bag).
Everything for three days fit into two bags. Because I’d been living minimally for a month, I knew exactly what I’d actually use.
I didn’t overpack. I brought what I needed, wore everything, came home with zero regrets.
The strangest part? My one-bag experiment started affecting other areas of my life.
I cleaned out my closet: Do I actually wear this, or am I keeping it “just in case”?
I reorganized my kitchen: Do I actually use this gadget, or is it aspirational clutter?
I even decluttered digitally: Do I need 47 apps, or am I carrying digital “just in case” items too?
The bag was a gateway to intentional living.
What I Learned
After 30 days, three truths emerged:
1. You Need Less Than You Think
Eighty percent of what I used to carry daily, I never actually needed.
The “just in case” items almost never helped. And on rare occasions I did need something I wasn’t carrying? I figured it out. I borrowed. I improvised. I survived.
We overestimate how much we need because we underestimate our ability to adapt.
2. The Right Bag Makes All the Difference
Not all totes are created equal. What mattered most:
- Natural materials: Cotton canvas proved perfect—sturdy, washable, breathable, and eco-friendly
- Thoughtful organization: A few interior pockets (not too many) kept essentials accessible without creating chaos
- Versatile design: Neutral colors and clean lines worked for work presentations and weekend farmers markets alike
- Comfort features: Broad shoulder straps distributed weight evenly—crucial when carrying the same bag 12+ hours daily
- Quality construction: Details like reinforced stitching and secure closures meant the bag held up to daily wear
The right features made minimalism feel effortless, not restrictive. I realized that investing in a well-designed everyday tote was more cost-effective than owning dozens of mediocre bags.
I’d been drawn to brands that prioritize intentional design and natural materials—like akiiko, which creates thoughtfully crafted canvas totes that balance function with a minimalist aesthetic. Their approach to “slow fashion” accessories resonated with what I was learning: that quality, versatile pieces serve you better than a closet full of fast-fashion options.
3. Carrying Less = Living More
When I stopped spending mental energy on which bag, what to pack, did I forget something—I had energy for what actually mattered.
I was more present in conversations. More decisive. More content.
The bag was never just about the bag. It was about intentionality.
What Happened After Day 30?
Did I stick with it? Yes and no.
I didn’t stay militant about “exactly one bag forever.” I now own three bags total (down from 23):
- My everyday canvas tote—for 90% of my life (work, errands, casual outings)
- A small crossbody—for events needing only phone/wallet/keys
- A weekend duffle—for overnight trips
That’s it. Three bags, each with clear purpose. No redundancy. No “just in case” backups.
And I don’t miss the other 20 bags at all.
Not once in six months have I thought, “If only I still had that floral tote from 2019.”
Try It Yourself: Choosing Your One Bag
Want to experiment? Here’s how to choose the right tote for your own 30-day challenge:
Size matters: Look for 35-45cm wide, 28-35cm tall—big enough for a laptop and lunch, not so large you’ll overfill it. Spacious totes with structured shapes maintain their form even when not packed full.
Material is key: Natural fibers like 100% cotton canvas or cotton blends are:
- Durable enough for daily wear
- Washable (life happens)
- Eco-friendly and biodegradable
- Comfortable on your shoulder
- They age beautifully rather than looking cheap over time
Organization without complexity: Look for 2-3 interior pockets—enough to keep phone, keys, and wallet separate, but not so many that you lose track of items. Some totes include zippered compartments for valuables, which I found invaluable.
Comfort features: Broad, padded straps are non-negotiable if you’ll carry this bag daily. Thin straps dig into shoulders after an hour. Also consider handle drop length—you want it comfortable for shoulder carry.
Versatile aesthetic: Choose neutral colors (natural canvas, wheat, espresso, black) that work with your entire wardrobe. Avoid loud patterns or overly casual styles if you need it for professional settings.
Thoughtful design matters: I found that brands focusing on intentional design—like akiiko’s collection of natural material totes—tend to include the features that actually matter: reinforced stitching, comfortable straps, practical pockets, and timeless aesthetics that don’t go out of style after one season.
Start light: Do a week-long audit of what you actually use. Start your tote with only those items.
Organize zones: Front pocket for quick-access (keys, phone). Main compartment separated—left for items that jostle (water bottle), right for protected items (laptop, notebook).
Empty nightly: Prevents buildup and keeps you honest about what you’re carrying.
Adjust, don’t quit: If something isn’t working, change it. The goal is awareness, not perfection.
The Real Lesson
Here’s what I really learned:
We don’t have a “stuff” problem. We have a fear problem.
Every “just in case” item was insurance against uncertainty. Against discomfort. Against needing something and not having it.
But here’s the truth: Uncertainty is the human condition. No amount of stuff eliminates it.
The one bag didn’t make me more minimalist. It made me more confident.
Confident in my ability to adapt. To improvise. To be mildly uncomfortable and survive.
And it made me more intentional about the objects I choose to carry through life. I learned that quality everyday essentials—like a well-made tote—serve you better than a closet full of mediocre options.
Your Invitation
I’m not suggesting you throw away all your bags tomorrow.
I’m suggesting one week. Pick a bag. Pick your essentials. Pay attention.
Notice what you actually use. Notice what you carried but never needed.
At the end of the week, ask yourself:
- Did carrying less make life harder… or easier?
- Did I feel deprived… or liberated?
- Did I miss my other bags… or not think about them at all?
Maybe you’ll discover what I did:
That sometimes, less isn’t sacrifice. It’s freedom.
About the Author
Akiiko is a writer and minimalist living advocate exploring intentional living through everyday choices. This experiment was inspired by the slow living movement and brands that create thoughtfully designed, natural material accessories for intentional lifestyles. Learn more about sustainable, minimalist tote bags at akiiko.com.
