The Unexpected Magic of ‘Tidying Up’
What a recent closet clean-out taught me about how few items ‘spark joy’ for me right now
I didn’t realize how dangerous my household to-do list was until the dust had settled. Literally.
I first discovered the joy of decluttering years ago. I was coming out of my first serious bout of burnout (one that required a mental health leave from work) and started experimenting with both living minimally and living with meaning. I was also making the first steps toward findependence and investing in real estate.
The KonMari method was exactly the soothing decluttering routine my fried nerves were looking for. The act of cleaning up was a physical manifestation of what I was trying to do with my nerves and feelings: see the big messy picture of my life and remove what no longer serves a purpose.
If you’re not familiar with the decluttering technique, I highly recommend comfort-watching the Netflix series that beautifully illustrates the method. But here’s a quick synopsis.
- Take one category or space in your home (kitchen, clothes, paperwork).
- Take everything out of its current place and lay it out.
- Take each item in your hands and think about its purpose in your life. If something has a purpose, sentimental attachment or just simply makes you happy, you get to keep it. This is what’s called “sparking joy”.
- If the item no longer serves a purpose and you can’t think of a way to give it a purpose, you need to get rid of it. If it can be donated, do so. If it can be recycled, do so. If there’s no other way, trash it.
There are more solutions about beautifully folding, storing and stacking items. But it’s the purge I love so much.
I purge a space in my home at least once every three months (or once a season). I pick a room or space that feels cramped, full, or simply “too much”. In this case, I needed to address the bedroom.
At the beginning of yesterday, I had a closet full of clothes. Plus a four-drawer dresser for underwear, pyjamas and workout gear. It’s a tall piece with dark wood. It dominates the space in my white/grey/light blue colour scheme.
Here’s the thing. My bedroom is small. I bought a double bed (just barely big enough for me and the dog. Apologies to future overnight guests). The dresser sits just beside the bed. And I have a table with plants and decor in another corner. I hated this look.
Throughout the pandemic I’ve been very careful to keep work, working out and any non-sleep activities out of the bedroom. This room needs to be a quiet sanctuary for sleep and sleep alone. Now that I’m working shift work again, I’m becoming more protective of my sleep.
Once I realized I was only ever grabbing summer clothes from one side of the closet, the solution was obvious. I needed to Kon-Mari my closet and clear up space to put the dresser in the closet.
As I decided which pieces to keep and which to donate, it became clear my relationship with clothes has been shaped by pandemic living.
Most of my clothes were tossed because they don’t fit.
The rest were discarded because they’re just too fancy for the life I’m living right now. I’m not going to product launches, restaurant openings or industry events right now. I haven’t for almost two years. And I don’t think I’ll need to “dress to impress” in the near future.
Which isn’t to say my wardrobe is all athleisure either. What remains are a series of breezy summer dresses that fit the body I have now. And a few pieces I need to look nice from the waist up. And, sadly, a modest black dress I need to wear next week for my grandfather’s internment.
All of this fits in one half of my modest closet. The dresser makes up the other half. And even then it feels like too much.
There’s another decluttering school popularized by Peter Walsh. He’s an Australian organization expert who had a hugely popular show in the early aughts. He had a hanger approach where at the beginning of every season, you put your hangers in one direction. Once you wear an item, you hang the hanger in the other direction. Whatever items are still facing the original direction, you get rid of at the end of the season.
If I followed this method, I would be left with three sun dresses and one pink button-down shirt. This is an accurate reflection of the way I’ve been dressing this summer, even with eased restrictions.
But I’m hopeful that at some point I’ll have new opportunities to dress up from head to toe. Or at least look nice below the waist. And for more than a funeral.
The pandemic was unexpected. Working from home and, in Toronto, the world’s longest lockdown was unexpected.
The fourth wave is just starting to crest. My consulting business is just getting started. My life is very different now than it was a year ago, so I need to hold on to a few “office clothes” just in case I need them.
Sometimes you need to prepare for unexpected joy.
