Clutter? Help has arrived
Regain control of your stuff, and your life, with these tips from the pros
When friends visited after our remodel, one room was guaranteed to induce cries of pleasure worthy of “The Affair,” the steamy new Showtime series. There was the “Oh yes!” at the cabinetry, followed by the “Oh gosh!” at the hooks and finally “Heaven!” at the bench and mirror. Yes, they’d found the mudroom.
Five years later, it’s as if they’d wandered onto an apocalyptic set of “Homeland.”
How did that wondrous mudroom became the “crud room,” the Vesuvius of effluvia of our lives? I ventured in recently to search for our 10year-old’s homework and instead uncovered: a 1940s negligee with matching bolero, a roller-hockey stick, research for article ideas that were rejected, and a moldy sandwich. In the baskets: a menagerie of single sneakers — odoriferous, laceless and in varying stages of wear.
How to get it under control before the clock strikes 2015?
The annual purge of the new year promises clarity and expansiveness, both home and soul-wise, if we believe the plethora of articles, blogs and posts on Pinterest. I’m a believer. As Napa organizing stylist Angela Hoxsey points out: “Clutter is from the word ‘clot’ and creates stuck energy, making it hard to focus and move forward. After clearing clutter, clients say they feel lighter and revitalized.”
Our reasons for hanging onto things are emotional, says Lisa Mark, a Palo Alto certified professional organizer at the Time Butler and National Association of Professional Organizers board member. In her 11 years’ experience, she has seen challenges particular to clients in the Bay Area, where the cost of housing is high and many of us live in smaller homes without attics and basements and limited closet storage.
First: “We live in a culture of abundance where goods are readily available and mostly affordable, but we are locked in the scarcity mind-set of ‘I might need that someday,’ ” she says.
Second: We find it hard to get rid of big-ticket items that are basically worthless, particularly family heirlooms.
There are no big-ticket items in our mudroom, but we have sneakers for every occasion.
Marissa Niles, a Berkeley organizer and a National Association of Professional Organizers member, arrives to help me clear the mudroom. A former actress who has moved 20 times, she’s pared her possessions to what she could “run to the gate with.”
She advises me to take on just one task, the sneakers, “otherwise it’s overwhelming.” I pair off the sneakers and recycle the singles. She says to store out-of-season sports gear in the kids’ rooms. Emboldened by our progress, I toss my 3-year-old research without glancing at it.
Next it’s upstairs to my closet, which a NAPO survey found is the most disorganized storage space in our homes. “We wear 20 percent of the clothes we own 80 percent of the time,” says Vanessa Hernandez, an Oakland “fashion therapist.”
Hernandez reminds me that our closets are cluttered by our three selves; past, present and future.
My past self is represented by two pairs of tauntingly tight jeans, a common dilemma. “Even if you do eventually fit into those old jeans, do you want to wear them?” Hernandez asks. “They’ll probably be dated.”
The present: my job writing requires bum-on-seat from 9 to 3, after which I drive in circles around our house (we have four kids). I haven’t worked in an office for a decade. Why, then, am I hanging onto that navy suit? Also in the donate pile, three day dresses that are too short for my 52-year-old knees.
And then there is the future self. Mine is a glam cocktail-clinking self who lives only in my mind. Out goes a purple satin frock I wore once.
But some things remain treasures: Hernandez suggests that I store that “first date” dress in the attic and make blankets and quilts out of the old baby clothes and kids’ T-shirts.
Time to attack the kitchen and the pile of plates left behind from the potluck parties at our house. I’ll repeat what I did last year when I posted a photo of the plates on Facebook with the status: “No plate left behind — come and get me!” Plates left on the porch after two days were donated.
The day is done and I feel 10 pounds lighter. The mudroom is considerably less smelly with fewer sneakers in it. Next: world peace.