Laura is a small-space and sustainable living expert. A journalist with more than 20 years of experience writing for the leading home magazines and websites, she is the author of two decor books The Little Book of Living Small and The Bunk Bed Book. Highlights: * 20+ years experience writing for national magazines * Author of The Little Book of Living Small (2020) and The Bunk Bed Book (2022) * Former Lifestyle Director of Parents magazine (2013-2019)

I'm a self-proclaimed minimalist, but that doesn't mean I live in an all-white box with barely any furniture. My definition of minimalism is not about an aesthetic; rather it is an approach to life that values just the right amount of things. To me, minimalism means stripping away the excess to get to what is essential. And as a small-space dweller, I am sometimes forced to be more of a minimalist than my friends and family.

It might seem like shopping at Costco could not fit into a minimalist lifestyle, but I believe it can. In fact, minimalists might be the perfect people to shop at Costco because they can more easily resist overspending. If you're trying to cut back on excess in your own home, read on for the six best tips and lessons I've learned shopping at Costco as a minimalist.

One big shopping trip frees up time. Yes, going to Costco is a pain and it can be a stressful experience when the store is crowded, but it saves me time and brain space in the long run because I have to shop less often when I buy in bulk. Minimalism isn't just about stuff: It's about removing the excess from your life in all areas. Freeing up time spent shopping is a major win in my book.

Costco forces minimalism on me by making me decide what I want most because I can't fit it all. I'd buy every kind of dried fruit they have, but my cupboards can only fit a couple, so I pare down to what is essential and most-loved. Minimalism is all about knowing what fits comfortably into your home, your closet, and your calendar.

While Costco warehouses are vast, they actually have fewer unique products than my neighborhood grocery store: Instead of 15 types of jam and jelly there are two; likewise, there's only one brand of canned beans. I appreciate not having to think so hard about what to buy while I am at Costco. The limited selection also means my mind isn't wandering off to recipes I've been meaning to cook.

Keeping my cupboards mostly bare would certainly appear more minimalist, but I find that a well-stocked larder allows me to spend less time worrying about what to cook. With a 12-pound bag of brown rice, a stash of black beans, my favorite marinara, and some dried pasta in my cupboard, I'm never far away from a meal. Committing to a larger quantity of one type of thing also makes meal planning easier.

Large packages make you question what you really love. At Costco, I am actually less likely to make an impulse purchase because each one is such a commitment. Sure, those granola bars look yummy, but if my kid doesn't like them I'd have a huge box to contend with. Likewise, the merino wool socks seem like a deal, but I am not ready to buy a dozen of anything I haven't tried before-no matter how cheap it is.

I love that Costco doesn't spend money on marketing or fancy displays, nor does it allow its vendors to pay for shelf placement. This minimalist marketing means I'm not tempted to overspend. That said, Costco does employ a strategy to entice customers to buy more that minimalists need to know about.

Costco wants its customers to feel like shopping there is a "treasure hunt" and intentionally stocks a few "wow" items that are constantly changing. The former chief executive once said, "We try to create a sense of urgency, that if you see the product there, you better buy it because chances are they won't be there next time." My advice? Shop with a list and stick to it -- that's minimalism 101.