| Ugh! Purging is really hard, especially if you’re someone like me who has implacable standards, a mediocre schedule, and an addiction to TikTok “conspiracy” theories about moon landings. |
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| Insta-grammers are always posting pictures of gee-gaws and gimmicks to show that “there’s a way to display and store everything.” If that’s true, how come I can’t seem to find a way to exhibit my collection of ceramic squirrel egg cups I’d amassed in the nineties on eBay, for reasons that now elude me, or my vintage collection of “Sides of Houses” posters? I know what you’re thinking: Couldn’t I frame up some of those posters and line my hallway with them? Sure, but full disclosure. To be a highbrow designer/organizer like me, you have to be willing to be clever. And that’s gonna take hustle, drive, and early-morning runs. I mean, who wants to look at a bunch of malnourished squirrels not holding hard boiled eggs lined up on a bookshelf? Besides, that’s where I keep my swim goggles, heart-shaped chocolate boxes, and appliance-related binders of impressive width. |
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Yes, I’m sure there are good solutions out there, but I’ll tell you this: I haven’t run into many. Every week or so, I peruse the local chapters of Big Box stores and watch old HGTV episodes mourning the lack of new and creative ways to appease my anxious attachment style. (which is why I tend to write so much about decluttering). Sometimes, I’ll even take time out of my day to wonder about how the economy works. So today I want to make a case for:the colonial impulse to collect and own that collecting is natural and frequently underrated. The oddest things can have the best stories — and the most meaning. |
| Clutter is either a mindless attachment to the material — or a mindless indifference to it. Something that you are not enjoying on a daily basis. |
| No, I’m not talking about the “clutter”emporiums of bric-a-brac possessions stacked like a Jenga tower in your garage, basement or storage unit that you have clung to as if they were holy water in a scorched desert, or the clutter bubble-wrapped in guilt, or the clutter that Alexander Fleming left in his laboratory while he went away on vacation resulting in mold contaminating one of his petri dishes. Nor am I defending pathological hoarder behaviour. Like Andy Warhol, for instance, who apart from being a formidable collector, was also a major hoarder. At the end of a day, he would often sweep the things on his desk—newspaper clippings, old letters, half a sandwich—into a carton, label it “T.C.,” for time capsule, date it, and store it. |
| So before you run screaming in search of garbage bags and socks that don’t match, note that there may be clutter that you should hang on to, rather than villainize and purge from your life in a heartless way; what Rob Walker calls“mindful materialism.” Yes, I’m advocating and honouring the sort of, you know, hard to defend attraction we have for certain objects. Now the reason we often have a hard time parting with our most whacky, minuscule, oddball, or seemingly unimpressive tchotchkes, is because these objects resurrect and enhance memories of a time in our life, a trip we took, a person we knew, an experience we had, a feeling we had. They evoke and are affiliated with meaning. |
| A elephant fashioned out of pop cans bought on the side of the road near Cape Town, a pencil holder you made in Grade Seven, a box of loose buttons from your grandmother, a necklace your friend gave you when she moved to Honolulu, your first pair of eyeglasses, a worn door handle decoration, a little leather camel, a rusty watering can. These items can have emotional resonance far beyond their monetary and provenance value. They have memorable value; nebulous, malleable and priceless in their own unique way. Always Something Here to Remind Me In this sense, I submit that some sentimental items are necessary: they symbolize values, capsulize memories, and tell life stories. And that is not something to be taken lightly. “Keep the best of the best and declutter the rest.” But remember, memorabilia is for retrieving pleasant memories, not miserable ones. For those, there are always websites, such as NeverLikedItAnyway.com that will buy your ex’s leavings, ranging from engagement rings to odd socks found under the bed. Or a garage sale, a testament to the hours of preparation it takes to make $35. Also PutItAtTheEndOfTheDriveway.com Nowadays, when bland imitation is everywhere, your objects of choice should make you smile and pump in endorphins just by holding or looking at them. You don’t need to be able to mount a defence in a court of law to justify them. You just have to sort of say, “Look, this makes me happy.” |
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THE KEY is to find room for your special things without the room looking jumbled and random. You don’t want to make your things look like uninvited guests at a party and have rooms devoid of inspiration and emotion, but instead, a space that feels homey, to be able to say, “This is my place, my fortress, my safe place.” By all means, jettison your belongings when you recognize that the amount of stuff you own has impacted a home’s ability to function as it should, or prevents you from performing tasks well. But before performing a Wild West showdown by renting a large U-Haul, recover your sense of agency and dig through that treasure chest of trinkets that has a story to tell, a memory to revive, an experience to remember. These objects that fertilize eye-watering comfort are bridges to other people, places, and times. It’s the poignant interplay between your senses, memories, and emotions. Each person has a story that should be told about their lives and their joy and their losses, and all of that stuff. Maybe the point is to proofread and edit the past tense of your life story — so you can continue writing it in the present tense. Cause some things are meant to be seen and touched. Well, it’s almost dark and I still have to find a place for my toothpick collection. |
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