The freedom of structure

On the power of a good framework

Your Five-Year Plan is a newsletter about embracing life’s profound uncertainty.

Maybe your own plans went up in flames; maybe you’re considering a big, scary leap. This is your trusty companion while you’re writing the next life chapter.

Welcome to the conversation—and to the adventure that unfolds when your plans go sideways. This is letter #40. ✨

The freedom of structure

Scaffolding around the Sagrada Familia, captured on Kodak Portra 400 film

Reader, I have denim problems.

At this point, such a statement from an elder millennial has the same weight as “the sky is blue” or “the Pope is Catholic.” Unfortunately, though, the obviousness of the declaration doesn’t help me navigate our post-jegging world order.

After my first, halting attempts at styling ’90s-inspired jeans—washes and silhouettes that elicit memories of my most awkward teenage years—I stumbled upon the answer to my prayers: fashion TikTok’s “three-word method.”

Like anyone else without a TikTok account, I discovered this viral trend long after its virality had subsided, through mainstream media articles on the subject. The method’s creator: stylist Allison Bornstein, who counsels clients (and people who know how to use TikTok) to select three words describing their unique style.

The first word, she says, should describe the things you wear and love today. The second word, an aesthetic you aspire to. The third, how you want to feel when you step into your clothes. The resulting, unique combination of adjectives can guide all future shopping and styling decisions.

As it turns out, this simple idea is perfect for integrating new trends without abandoning your authentic self. It is—as countless TikTokers would agree—a fantastic style framework.

What exactly is a framework?

A framework is mental scaffolding that helps us think about or do something better by offering just enough structure to build around—but not an ounce more. It’s gently supportive and operates mostly in the background: an underwire-free bra for our thought process, one that’s so comfortable we forget we’re wearing it.

Frameworks are flexible guidelines, not cages. As Allison Bornstein writes in Wear It Well, her book about the three-word method: “Remember—the framework is here to guide you, not to bind you or to force you into a rigid box that constricts your free expression.”

Let’s spot some other examples in the wild.

First, there are frameworks we apply to life’s various empty spaces and blank slates. The three-word method lends structure to the immobilizing (for me, at least) question “What should I wear with these mom jeans?”—but other ones address more exciting questions, like “What should I do while I’m on vacation?”

Brenna of Kiss me on Tulips created the world’s loveliest tripartite framework for exploring a new place. In this letter about Tallinn, Estonia, she writes:

“I’d like to start a series that has three travel tips focused on the things I love to do when I am traveling: go on an adventure, settle in for a coffee and a pastry, and explore a cultural event.”

Then, there are frameworks we use to tackle life challenges, like new habit formation. James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, suggests adopting an identity-based framework: rather than relying on tooth-gritting willpower to change a habit, he’d have us start by focusing on the people who do that habit naturally, and observe how they structure their lives.

Finally, frameworks abound when it comes to making all kinds of choices and decisions.

When it comes to the infinite small decisions of daily life, we can adopt a framework that reminds us to choose better inputs. When it comes to bigger, tougher choices, we can—as Jeff Bezos (sorry!) does—apply a regret minimization framework. (Chris Anselmo wrote about the similar “100-year-old self” framework here.) Or we can follow Oliver Burkeman’s lead with a framework that counsels us to choose enlargement over happiness.

What can we use frameworks for?

In these examples, you’ve seen the first application of this principle: we use frameworks to lend structure to our thinking and decision-making processes, especially in uncertain situations.

We also use frameworks as the Goldilocks solution when a bit of structure is called for, but planning isn’t the best solution.

And we can use frameworks to solidify the results of a successful experiment. When our hypothesis is met with encouraging data, we can consolidate that data into a simple framework: a mantra, perhaps, or a question that will prompt or nudge us to carry its lessons forward.

What’s so great about frameworks? 

What benefits do good frameworks impart? For one, they offer the benefits of structure while preserving the upsides of uncertainty.

They address the anxiety-producing aspects of the unknown without quashing its blessings: mystery, discovery, surprise, creativity, possibility. They help us create order out of chaos without resorting to the maladaptive security blanket of overplanning.

Frameworks simplify the most overwhelming aspects of complexity without flattening its beautiful intricacies.

They help us identify patterns and points of connection across life challenges. In doing so, they can help us choose how to direct limited resources—time, money, attention—and preserve our energy for more interesting, creative acts.

Because frameworks aren’t one-size-fits-all, we get to cherry-pick the ones that work for us. We can invent or adapt them to address our personal priorities, values, and desires. They’re infinitely adjustable—change them on the fly, because there are no rules! Yes, they provide structure, but they can be lighthearted, even fun.

I built two wildly useful frameworks for myself, entirely by accident.

I used to make decisions using a planning framework, in which most aspects of my money and life were neatly planned ahead of time. Then, my mom died after decades of planning for a retirement she never got to enjoy.

Grief-stricken, I became resentful of the planning framework I’d relied on for so many years—a framework that is grossly inadequate for addressing the tension between our present and future selves.

I knew there had to be a better way to address those tradeoffs, so I came up with the gift-giving framework; it’s guided my financial decisions ever since. And since the planning framework didn’t hold up under uncertain circumstances, I came up with a better framework for navigating plan-in-flames moments.

I wrote about these frameworks hoping that they’d be useful for you, too! But it’s okay if they aren’t.

It’s far more important to know that you can borrow or build your own gentle frameworks to address any challenge you face, whether that’s “getting dressed in the morning” or “managing your financial life” or “finding your way through life transition.”

There isn’t a tidy formula or three-step process for building a framework. It’s trial and error, and it’ll need adjusting as you go.

But if you look carefully, you’ll find that you already have the ingredients close at hand, if you trust yourself enough to improvise the recipe.

💬 What do you think?

I’m curious to hear from you. What’s a go-to framework that you rely on? (And, if you’re a fan of the three-word method, please dish: what are your three words?)

Had your own plan-in-flames experience? Taking a leap into the unknown? I’d love to hear more. Just hit “reply” to get in touch, or introduce yourself here.

Warmly,
Maddie