This is Stuff You Like, you can call me Ursa, and today I’m going to let you in on a not-very-secret
secret which I may have alluded to before: I’m really good at moving house, you guys.
And part of the reason for this is that I am, in fact, quite organised, but also that
I'm a fairly ruthless decluttered and I don't have a lot of Stuff.
Because collecting significant amounts of physical possessions is nice and all if you
don’t move 13 times in 13 years, but if you do it’s just a massive pain in the posterior.
NO NOT ANOTHER DECORATIVE BOX MAKE IT STOP.
That said, I realise that hardcore minimalism is not for everyone.
Including me. So let’s talk about Marie Kondo and her
non-minimalist minimalism. I swear that’s not as dumb as it sounds.
Earlier this year I saw Katie Willert tweeting about the KonMari method of getting rid of
stuff which isn’t sparking joy, which led me to a bunch of articles about
Marie Kondo’s book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering
and Organising
(no wonder people just call it the KonMari method)
The thing is, the method seems perfectly attuned to my personality.
Which is to say, I am intrinsically kind of lazy, but also the sort of person who tends
to go on obsessive binges.
SO the ‘tidy up all in one go and then it will be much much easier for the entirety
of the rest of your life’ thing...perfect for me.
And for Marie Kondo. Who is...endearingly eccentric.
The very basics of the book go like this: You resolve to make this tidying a special
one-off event, totally unlike your regular put it back when you’re done with it tidying.
You imagine your destination, your ideal life. And with this ideal life sitting in the back
of your brain somewhere, you proceed to the actual sorting:
Gather all the stuff from one category together in a big pile
The category aspect is important, the big pile is also important, because otherwise
how would you know exactly how much stuff you had?
The first category, for example, is clothes, but if you have enough clothes that this would
be to big, the first category is ‘tops’. All your tops.
From all of the places they have been stashed.
Then you hold each item in your hands and see what resonates with you.
What ‘sparks joy’. The book has quite an animistic approach,
encouraging you to thank your stuff, before sending it on its way to wherever, with gratitude.
It gets...woo-woo. Little bit woo-woo, not gonna lie.
But you end up, supposedly, with a closet only containing clothes which spark joy.
Which make you happy when you put them on.
And then having completed the process for clothes,
you repeat the process for books, papers, miscellany, and
sentimental items.
until you have a home that only contains things which bring you joy.
The idea is that you then appreciate all the things in your house, whether they are joy-inspiring
or just necessary, because they help you to live your life well.
Or at least you appreciate all YOUR things, because throwing out other people's stuff:
big no-no.
I really liked the book, Marie Kondo’s slightly eccentric translated voice and all.
She gets pretty prescriptive in the order in which you should sort your stuff, and how
you should put it all into a big pile, and sort by category,
and she also gets pretty prescriptive in how you should fold your socks,
but when it comes to which possessions to keep and which to discard, she lets your joy
be your guide.
Thing is, there are professional organisers, usually the kind who write articles on Real
Simple, or similar, who will tell you that you should throw out
anything that you haven’t used in X months, or discard any clothing you haven't worn in
Y years. Some people will attempt to persuade you that
thirty hats is far too many or that your woollens collection is much too
large, you weirdo.
But Marie Kondo is perfectly fine with you having 30 hats or 100 pairs of shoes, as long
as each one, when held in your hands, gives you a joy.
And so long as you have somewhere to store it.
S’anyway, if you like the idea of having less crap and more space slash joy in your
life, give the book a whirl and see what you think.
Or just read one of the 3 gajillion articles on the subject.
Most of the criticisms of the book I’ve seen fall into three different categories:
“but I want to keep my stuff!” “this book is weird”
and a sprinkling of the more pertinent "minimalism is only for rich people".
but we’ll get to that one in a second. “I want to keep my stuff” tells you they
haven’t read the book, because Marie Kondo is perfectly happy for you to keep your stuff...if
it brings you joy. If you want to keep stuff which does not bring
you joy then... I guess the book is not for you.
“This book is weird”? Well, yes, Imean it may not fit precisely
with your cultural experiences or mine, but that doesn't necessarily make it weird, just
different The author’s obsessiveness is, granted,
a touch weird, but I personally find it kind of charming.
That said, your mileage may vary.
Right. But minimalism is for rich people. That bears some examination, because...it
is, you know, kind of true. In a consumerist culture with a lot of cheap
crud available, and especially when an individual might not
have a great deal of perceived control over their life,
and in spaces where there is generally a relative abundance of space in which to store things
packrat tendencies are kind of inevitable.
And even among people who don’t tend to hoard, maybe some things you have are kinda
crummy but you have to keep them because you can’t afford to replace them.
Marie Kondo's book does not really take these things into consideration, although she has
answered questions on it since then.
But then the book is from her perspective as a one-on-one tidying consultant,
and this is not someone you hire if you are a poor person.
Incidentally, her answer to 'but I can't afford to replace this even though it's crummy' is,
well, you just have to keep it for now then, but when you get around to replacing it, try
and replace it with something that actually does spark joy.
Thing is though, while she cautions against hoarding too many toothbrushes or too much
toilet roll or whatever, she isn't a possessions snob.
She just wants everything you own to make you happy and not get in the way of the life
you actually want.
One of the genuinely life-changing things about the book is how it can alter your relationship
to your stuff. As in, you become more aware of your stuff,
and its place in your life, and you become much less willing to let random non-joy-sparking
things into your space.
And that’s probably a good thing, for your peace of mind and the non-destruction of the
planet and your ability to walk across your floor without tripping.
However, even if you embrace minimalism wholeheartedly, please don’t be a snobby jerk about it.
I have absolutely no patience with the competitive minimalism that a certain section of the Internet
seems to indulge in.
It's not just things like '100 things minimalism' because it’s entirely possible only to own
100 items and not be a snobby jerk about it, but
There is a section of minimalism which is really smug about how their possessions are
The Best A Man Can Get Not like these hordes of consumer drones who
just buy everything all the time. People.
You are still defining yourself by your possessions. It's just a different set of possessions to
normal, whoop-de-do. Isn’t the point of minimalism that you spend
less time thinking about all of the stuff that you own, and can get on with doing the
important things in life? Yes?
No? Maybe?
Little off track there.
Anyway, to sum up, if you’re in the market for an organising technique which is slightly
woo but surprisingly effective, give The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up a go.
Try the book, or watch the videos, pile up your stuff and take it in your hands, and