Ok. It’s part III. I’ve got three chapters under my belt and to quote every single The Bachelor contestant, “When I started this journey I was the biggest sceptic, but…”
Oh God. It’s happening.
Make no mistake, I am still a pig. I mean, it’s only 3 chapters in and it’s all relatively fresh up in here. But Queen Kondo has now given me permission to start tidying and oh boy have I tidied. I tidied the shit out of this place, I tidied so hard my whole body hurt and I had to get BOTH my cats to walk all over me… But this is nothing new.
Chapter Three’s theme is Categories. It’s ALL about the categories, y’all. This
wench woman figuratively shoves you violently holds your hand through the entire process, step by step, category by category. I think that’s what makes it so hard to give up. Marie Kondo has somehow gained my trust and is now leading me to a very tidy cliff, and the worst part is I actually think it’s wise to jump. She insists we tidy not by location but by category, so I nod obediently and go in search of garbage bags.
Category One is clothes. First of all, I don’t have many clothes. I mean, I have like 3 clothes. And I wear them all the goddamn time.
Kondo doesn’t believe me and forces me to grab every item of clothing I own (yes, every single item) and spread them out on the floor. I’ma stop you right there, Kondo. My floor is covered in crap AND cat hair.
So in the effort to show a book who’s boss I choose the couch instead. I scour the perimeter for EVERY ITEM of my clothing: The suitcases under the bed, the wardrobe (where I located a hidden cat)…
I ransacked the drawers, the hooks by the front door, the car, the cat’s bed, the floor… And I even had to do ALL the laundry to make sure I had collected EVERY SCRAP OF CLOTHING. And I’m spent.
OH MY DOG, Ok so I have more than 3 clothes.
Now, the whole point of gathering EVERY item of a single category is so that you can visually take in the sheer volume of your useless crap and then come to the inevitable conclusion that you are, in fact, a hoarder.
Then you have to pick up each item individually and talk to it. Yes. Talk to it.
And because I take this experiment very seriously, I
was overjoyed forced myself to have a good old chat say a few words to each item of clothing.
“Thank you, weird shirt, for making everyone think I was pregnant. You have done a great job of making me look 8 sizes larger. Now be free”
“Thank you, size too small jeans, for cutting off the blood flow to vital organs. Be free”
“Thank you, Rolling Stones shirt, for being so goddamn comfortable and awesome. Be fr- NO, YOU’RE STAYING HERE WITH ME FOREVER. I WILL BE BURIED IN YOU”
So while I still had to go all Fritzl on a small amount of my clothes, I ended up throwing out a hefty chunk of
my youth stuff that no longer served a purpose. Kondo is working, you guys. She found my only weakness: A belief that inanimate objects have feelings. She says that clothes that sit hidden away and unused are sad, she says they are not living the way they should. She said they are unfulfilled, you guys. Do I want my clothes to feel sad? Then I realised: The majority of my clothes basically feel the way I feel when I’m at my job. Oh god. I see where this is going and it’s not at all as funny as I had planned. I’m sorry.
AND LOOK! SHE TAUGHT ME HOW TO FOLD! I AM EXCITED ABOUT FOLDING! Oh dear god please somebody help. If you’re reading this and doing nothing to help me then you are literally the WORST TYPE OF PERSON. Worse than my cat, affectionately known as The Enabler.
Forget everything you know. This is how you fold, you guys. And yes, I gave lessons to my cat.
The one thing that was glaringly obvious after throwing everything out was what I had chosen to keep. 80% cat shirts and comfortable dag-wear. I was forced to admit that I only go out once a year and therefore only need one dress. I threw away clothes I loved the idea of but which never quite went.
I threw away SHOES, you guys. And for anyone who knows me, this was a BIG FUCKING DEAL.
I have to say it feels pretty good to finally come to terms with my daggy, comfortable self. And judging by the weight of all those bags I think my house feels better and lighter now too.
So check it out, in just 7 short hours I went from a mountain of crap to a *shudder* NEAT wardrobe… But the question remains: How long will it stay this way? And this is just clothes. I have like 20 more categories to go before my next post.
Yeah, look she is doing a great job of turning herself into a cult leader but she could have summarised that whole chapter by saying “Pull out all your shit. Cull it. Chuck it”. There’s no need to humiliate you all by getting you to commence an open dialogue inanimate objects.
Oh, but there IS a need, especially when humiliation is the cornerstone of your existence, as it is mine.