The Marie Kondo Test

I try not to be a packrat. I was raised in a pretty orderly, neat house. Everything had a place. Nothing was left on tables or countertops. My mom kept the house so that there were were enough personal affects and decorations around that you wouldn’t mistake it for a hotel, but it definitely came close. It felt lived in, but it was very tidy.

My bedroom was the only exception. There was stuff everywhere. It was organized, but there was just a lot of it. Lots of CDs, videotapes and books, notebooks, video games, and just the detritus of my interests.

Typical dining room scene

Over the years, I’ve tried to be more tidy. So I was intrigued to hear about Marie Kondo last year. The queen of tidiness, most people know her as the obsessive compulsive organizer who verbally thanks her possessions before throwing them out. Her methods involve getting rid of anything that does not “spark joy” in you. “What about the mixing bowls?” I would think. “Or the flathead screwdriver? They definitely don’t ‘spark joy’ but I use them.”

Here’s a clip of Mario Kondo helping an American tidy up on our favorite station, NHK:

Initially I wrote her off as a nutcase. But this year I came across the Danish concept of hygge. Basically it translates as “coziness.” This means valuing things like nice lighting, warm socks, reading a book, having a cup of coffee or a piece of cake. Whatever it is that makes you feel nice. And little things make a difference. (I read The Mezzanine this year, and there is an extended comparison of the different types of door knobs, because some really are nicer to grip than others!)

Hygge extends to your surroundings, like the fabrics on the furniture, and, big surprise, tidiness. Being a Scandiphile, hygge innately appeals to me. This focus on the cozy seems like a good way to live. The Danes are frequently ranked as the happiest people in the world, and they attribute this partially to the  hygge lifestyle, so maybe there is something to keeping your surroundings tidy. I’m on board now. I want to be hygge af.*

Better ask the queen how to do it.

So I got her book out from the library. KonMari doesn’t cover every type of item. Most items around a house would fall under her catch-all category, komono or “miscellany,” which might seem frustrating to those of us who own more than clothes, books, and mementos, her other categories. But there are over-arching guides she gives you.

Every item must “spark joy.” I think this goes for some things, but not other things. Better, I think, is her suggestion to take out and handle every thing you own. Looking at your cupboards isn’t enough. By taking out and handling each item, you’re more likely to identify something you don’t need and get rid of it. Don’t just leave the stuff sitting there because it “lives” there. Take it out and imagine using it.

In KonMari’s world, you are surrounded by a carefully curated selection of items that bring you joy. I don’t think it’s possible for the average person to live in KonMari’s dream world, so I scaled back her suggestion a bit to something less severe. Sometimes I just fell back on the old, “How long has it been since I’ve used this?”

It’s an odd book. It’s about half good ideas, and half crazy person talk. (Her book hints at a very bizarre childhood) She seems very touchy-feely, but behind that is actually a very cold analytic view of possessions. Once an item has served its purpose, it should be discarded. Her focus on the present is summed up well here:

“When we really delve into the reasons for why we can’t let something go, there are only two: an attachment to the past or a fear of the future.”

I combed through my closet, dresser, kitchen and basement… Well, part of the basement.

Clothes

I started in with the clothes. I threw out about eight pairs of socks and a pair of boxers.  I also instituted one of KonMari’s more well-known bizarro imperatives: Don’t ball up your socks. It makes a kind of inherent sense. Balling them up will weaken the elastic, and the resulting balls just sort of bounce around in the drawer.

Old Halloween Costume. Bye bye.

The way KonMari puts it, she acts like you’re actually hurting the socks’ feelings. See what I mean about being 50% good ideas and 50% insane? At any rate, I simply take two socks, fold them together, and then stack them in the drawer.

I eventually made my way to the closet. I have been really good about keeping a manageable selection of pants on hand. (Hold for applause) There’s about ten pairs of pants I wear for work folded in a neat pile, and I literally just work my way down the pile. Every pair gets used. I also have two pairs of jeans I wear, and that’s really it for pants.

Shirts have not been so well curated. I took all of them out and handled them one by one. KonMari’s “spark joy” advice might be a bit much, but I do definitely agree with her idea of taking everything out and handling each item. Just looking at the shirts on hangers isn’t enough. After going through the shirts, I found about a dozen to get rid of.

One other bit of KonMari wisdom I agree with but don’t totally follow:

“By folding your clothes neatly, you can solve almost every problem related to storage.”

She folds every piece of clothing so it sits up vertically on its own on a shelf or in a drawer. This is a funny piece of magic and would surely save a lot of space. But she is totally against stacking anything once it’s folded. (The weight will cause creases and hurt the clothes’ feelings or something.) So with an array of vertically folded clothes that can’t be stacked, does this mean I have to put everything on its own shelf? Do I need triple the amount of drawer space so they can all stand in a row on their own? She never really explains.

Stacked sweaters. Oh the humanity!

Paper

In the miscellany category, she does mention what she does with paper files, and it might seem strange: She just throws them out. According to the book, as soon as she gets a piece of paper, she throws it out.

“I recommend you dispose of anything that does not fall into one of three categories: currently in use, needed for a limited time, or must be kept indefinitely.”

That seemed a bit extreme to me, but it is true that most important documents today are available digitally. Insurance policies, utility bills, tax files… We get most recurring bills digitally, but I have a habit of keeping every kind of paper bill someone hands to me whether I will ever need it or not: Veterinarian bills, auto maintenance bills, anything from a doctor’s office. I have manuals for every appliance. Anything from our investment plans or social security.

Formerly two file boxes in the Expedit

They sure seem important, but I just never, ever go back and use them! So there is something to KonMari’s zero tolerance paper policy. I went through our files and got of everything that was more than a year old, unless it held some peculiar fascination, like my first paystub, or tax files. I threw out all of the manuals I couldn’t download or were really unncessary. And now we only have one box of paper files.

And now… all the files we have

Miscellany

In one case, I kept an item which I don’t think I’ve ever used, but did “spark joy.” It’s this weird cranking grater. It probably can’t hold more than one garlic clove at a time. I’ve never used it because, being buried at the back of a drawer, I forgot it was there. But it only cost $1.99 at Goodwill (the tag is still on it), and even though it is awkward to store, I’m going to keep it, damnit. The design is just too clever, and I want to at least try it out. Then I can decide if it’s worth keeping.

In the kitchen, I threw out lots of chopsticks, plastic tongs, a ladle, a whole bunch of tote bags, wooden spoons, cardboard drink carriers, takeout menus for restaurants we haven’t been to in years, weird plastic wine glasses that end at the stem, a rolling pin, and one bamboo sushi-rolling mat (do we really need two?).

All the garbage. Doesn’t include clothes sent to Goodwill

I also went into the basement, which was full of far too much stuff to get through in one day. I did take KonMari’s advice on cardboard boxes. I have stacks and stacks of them, waiting to be used for moving or shipping items. Still waiting after eight years of living here. So I recycled those

There’s definitely a lot more “kondo-ing” to do, but that’s enough for now.

Would you “Kondo” your house?

*Hygge af is also the name of the lifestyle brand I want to start