Anyone else out there feel terribly motivated by the concept of getting all tidy and organised each January? The new year is just begging for us to start afresh, isn’t it? Well the clearing of space and decluttering of my house was definitely a top item on my list of things to tackle for 2019, so I thought I’d bring out the big guns in the first week and tick off my first fad for 2019: Marie Kondo-ing my clothes.
I’m not back at work until this coming Monday, so today saw me frantically upending my drawers and wardrobes to try and start 2019 with a clean slate. Three charity shop destined bin bags and a pile for eBaying later and I have something mysterious and new in my wardrobe: space.
I read Marie Kondo’s Book a year or two ago, and I’ll be honest – it’s become a bit of a joke between my friend and I, as we frequently muse with our eyes shut, asking ‘hmmmmmm but does it spark joy’ about really, really ugly things when we’re out shopping. Whilst I am totally envious of Marie’s clear passion for tidying, frankly the sort of spiritualism that Kondo approaches it all with is a bit whacky for us Brits, no matter how good the outcome is. However, having reached the point where I don’t look in my wardrobe (I just open the door, throw, and close quickly before everything falls out – can you imagine the kind of feverish sweat Marie would end up in if she visited?) it was time to take it all a little bit more seriously. Out came my Kindle with my old copy of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying on it, together with some bin bags and some angry music. I meant business.
I’d love to say that I did the full Marie Kondo thang and pondered whether each item sparked joy, thanking those that I no longer needed. Well, I certainly had some questions and some responses, but they went largely along the lines of:
- Does this fit (invariably: no)
- If it fits, do I ever wear it (often: no)
- If it fits and I wear it, is it a good colour on me (judged by holding against my pasty, British winter skin and no make up face – 50% chance of also being a no)
And thus I whittled my wardrobe down further, and further… then had a break for a cup of tea and returned to randomly throw a handful of other things into the bag for charity with gay abandonment. Chucking felt good!
As for the statements towards things I was throwing, this felt a bit excessive given the volumes involved. I did however say the following thank yous to items discarded:
- Thank you for teaching me that corduroy is not flattering. Ever.
- Thank you for teaching me to never ever buy cheap white shirts (they’re see-through and they crease just by looking at them)
- Thank you for proving that beige is the worst colour known to man, and forcing me to realise I should never, under any circumstances, buy anything in that colour ever again.
After sorting through everything I did the Marie Kondo folding technique so I could see what I had left, and boy it looks pretty now. It’ll be like shopping for clothes each morning; I’m actually looking forward to picking out an outfit tomorrow morning, rather than dreading it quietly.
Hot tip: I’ve also put all my hangers back to front so that when I wear things, the hangers go in the right way around, then in a few months time I can see what I’m wearing and what I’m not wearing. You’re welcome.
Verdict: feeling satisfied and very proud of my neat wardrobe, but also rather silly on realisation of my emotional attachment to some truly hideous items. All in all, a solid 8/10.
Good(ish) Intentions 