The Center

Dear Crew,

There are things that I long believed were simply the better choices.

A Fairphone. 100% organic cotton. Clean eating. Minimal consumption. As consistent as possible.

I liked those ideas. They fit the person I wanted to be.

Until my body started to have a say.

The Fairphone was heavy. I write for hours every day. I'm often on the go, because my best ideas come to me when I'm moving around. It often ended up with my wrists hurting.

At some point, I asked myself: Who am I actually doing this for? Out of loyalty to an idea?

So I switched. And suddenly, writing became easier again. Not because the new smartphone was morally superior, but because it fit better with my life.

The same thing happened with my clothes. I wanted to wear nothing but natural fabrics—until I realized that some fabrics just don’t drape as nicely. That a good blend is sometimes more durable, more functional, and more comfortable—and adapts flexibly to my active daily life.

So I stopped arguing with my body.

The same goes for food. Clean eating is wonderful—until your body needs something else. Sometimes a nice piece of meat. A glass of sparkling wine. A few gummy bears. Not every day, and not as a way to escape. But simply because life isn’t just about rules.

I used to often think that consistency was a sign of integrity. Today, I believe otherwise.

Integrity doesn't mean staying true to an idea. It means staying true to life.

And life is rarely extreme. It flows. It changes. It responds.

Maybe that’s exactly what the middle is. Not between right and wrong. But between what we think we are and what our bodies have known all along.

My body isn't interested in ideologies. It's interested in relationships—with food, with clothing, with people, and with movement.

He doesn't ask, "What is the purest thing?" He asks, "What allows me to live more freely today?"

That's exactly where I find myself more and more often. Neither on the side of restraint nor on the side of consumption.

But on the side of life.

With love and a pair of stretchy pants,
Jeannette