Subverting
Like pretty much everyone on the planet, I recently purchased the Japanese decluttering book by Marie Kondo. And, like most of the people who purchased the nifty purse-sized tidying up bible, it remained in a heap by my bedside. Until today.
After speaking with a friend who had actually employed the concepts (to her satisfaction, I might add) I decided to crack the book and, in my typical fashion, page through it backwards until something caught my fancy. The heading “How to Fold” drew me in with its arrogant assumption that I (and other Westerners) had been doing it wrong lo these countless years.
None of my clients have ever known how to fold clothes properly when they began taking my lessons,
claims Kondo, in the Tiger Mom tone she takes for most of the book.
Really? I snarkily retorted in my head. I think my folding is just fine. When I do it. Which, hm, seems to have lately given way to the ball-up-and-stuff-in-the-drawer method of storage.
Kondo goes on to describe the “rolled and twisted like noodles” state of her uneducated clients’ drawers, and I had to admit, it struck a chord. She asserts that the first step in the process is to visualize the drawer once everything is in it. She says you should be able to see everything at a glance.
Huh?
Then she describes the outcome as similar to a bookcase, with the spines out – instead of pancaking your clothes, you fold them into rectangles and store them on their sides.
I went from, “I am so not doing THAT,” to, “I don’t think that would work too well with my clothes,” to, “Damn, this is awesome!”
I have to admit, I’m still not convinced that balling up your socks prevents them from getting the proper rest – but I do buy the argument that the material shouldn’t always be in a state of stretch.
Of course, I had to get rid of half my clothes to make it work – which was sort of the point. I had over 100 tops! I mean, how many Ducks t-shirts does the fair-weather fan need, anyway?
From the drawers, I next ventured into the wild jungle of my closet – stuffed to the brim with hangers made from all manner and material. 43 dresses/skirts; 17 jackets/coats; 38 scarves; containers full of outdated cosmetics and dried up bundles of sage.
See all of that crap on that shelf? I’ve had it tumble down and hit my head more times than I want to admit.
I allowed myself to keep 10 dresses and 6 skirts – the other 27 went into the Goodwill bin. Half my jackets and coats – off to do good work for those in need. Blouses and jackets I hadn’t worn in the last 6 months. Buh-bye. I admit, I kept more scarves than I should have. Scarves are my jewelry 9 months out of the year.
The guiding principle when deciding what to toss has to do with whether or not a given item brings you joy. About 75% of the items hanging in my closet now (see above) bring me joy. The other 25% are on probation. They’re the “I may need this” type of clothing. You know, in case I apply to work in a bank or something. But, seriously, if they don’t slide over into “joy” by 2016, out they go!
The best takeaway about closets in the Kondo book was the “rise to the right” organizing principle. You group your clothes: coats, jackets, skirts, dresses, blouses: with the lengthiest ones to the left, and shortest to the right. My clothes can breathe now. And I can put something on a hanger and not have it get tangled with its neighbor. The bliss of the purge (and the four bins of clothes now gone from this house) is infectious.
So. This is the point where I try to swerve into some sort of metaphor for writing. Decluttering the mind, allowing new ideas and energy to take root. Yes. Yes! I am totally ready to hit the page. First thing tomorrow. After I unball my socks.
