The de-Christmasizing of the house has been completed.
The full reality of January has hit.
What is January, really?
Thirty-one days of snirt (mix of snow and dirt) and a month of holiday bills joining with regular bills into a giant dumping of despair.
No more glittering lights, just burned out bulbs
It is also the month our minds turn to the 'D' word: "de-clutter."
You may have started watching a new Netflix show called Tidying Up with Marie Kondo. Apparently, I am late to this party. I had never heard of her until this new show aired.
I have only watched the first episode so far, but here’s my early impression.
They call it Tidying Up because it sounds so much easier and quicker than Spirit Crushing Clean-up.
Also, this petite Japanese tidying guru is so cute she makes you want to make her happy by cleaning up your pig sty so she will be pleased with you.
Here’s the thing, though. She uses something called the “Konmari” method.
Part of it is to first to start with clothes and literally take every piece of clothing out of every single room and toss it in a giant pile.
I don’t have a death wish. If I were to do that I would literally be drowning in clothes from 25 years ago and up, in a myriad of sizes and styles. It would be like scaling Mount Everest to get over it and I would never see my cat again.
She also suggests you hold each and every piece of clothing. If it does not spark joy, you must literally thank it for its usefulness and said goodbye to it. Out loud.
“Thank you ugly checkered shirt that didn’t quite close in the bosom section. Thank you for letting me wear you back in the '80s. You have served me well. Now, you must go. Bye bye.”
OK, I may be on the eccentric side, but I refuse to sit on the floor in a conversation with my underwear. Not only can I not get down on the floor, but I really don’t think my granny panties ever did that much for me. I prefer to wave “see ya’” and toss!
I suppose I would and should honour my old bras. Let’s face it, they really did all the heavy lifting.
She has this idea that everything from undies to T-shirts to pants should be folded up into tiny packages and put standing in the drawers. Listen, if I ever folded anything, I wouldn’t be in this unholy mess in the first place. She suggests getting the whole family involved.
Folding can be fun, she says. I don’t think it can.
Lots of her ideas do make good sense.
- Use transparent bins so you can see what you have.
- Smaller boxes in your drawers to keep things contained.
- Make sure everything has a place.
Her suggestion that we all get the number of books in our home down to 30 has erupted into quite the controversy.
People’s relationship with books is very personal and very intense. I always feel like its just wrong to get rid of books.
Am I going to read most of them ever again? Probably not.
Can I part with them? I don’t think so. I certainly can’t get rid of the ones on de-cluttering.
I notice also that she gets her clients to tackle clothes, kitchens, garages, bathrooms — everything before sentimental items. That is where we are all going to get stuck. I have gone through the same boxes dozens of times and ended up throwing out like a handful of cards or letters. It is literally painful to part with things so close to the heart.
I know she is on to something. She will be the next big celebrity. She will make millions on books (which she better not suggest we all buy), organizing items and special sorting bins.
As I struggle through January, I will keep watching her new series. I may even get inspired to try to simplify.
But no matter how bad things get, I refuse to host a farewell party for my underwear!
I have a feeling I could turn this calm organized woman into a puddle of frustrating tears.
I can see it now: There, in my room, surrounded by the mountain of mess, sits sweet Marie Kondo in disbelief.
Netflix could film her meltdown.
