BY NICHOLAS ENGERT
There is theory that coat hangers, when left alone in a wardrobe, multiply and, before you can blink, two have multiplied to 10 or more. Worse, they will all be of different types, sizes and materials.
Using this as a general principle, so it is with all the other stuff we collect throughout our lives. Those who move house every five years or so can take the opportunity to cull their surplus possessions that are no longer needed. Those, however, who have clocked up forty years in the same place find themselves swamped with an overwhelming amount of stuff.
There are, of course, numerous books about decluttering which you can buy to add to the clutter you already have. And whilst these books serve a purpose, the real problem is not the clutter but our mindset as to how we approach the problem in the first place.
Firstly, assuming you are married, and especially for a long time, there are demarcations around responsibilities for all the stuff. For example, the kitchen is my wife’s department, whilst the garage is my department. Her wardrobe, obviously, is her department just as my wardrobe is my responsibility.
Then there are the cross over spaces. The sitting room, bathroom and utility room have their own indeterminate boundaries where caution is required before getting too busy with the black sacks.
The boundary issues are frustrating enough, but these are compounded by the fact that, after so many years, every possible space in every room is full. To acquire one more item could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Throughout the course of the year, I prune the excess stuff in the same way that I prune the shrubs in the garden. A light snip here, a little dead heading there when what is really needed is radical surgery. As a result of this light pruning, I am a regular visitor to the municipal dump and virtually on first name terms with the operatives controlling the site.
In approaching radical surgery, I face a number of obstacles.
The first is the need to negotiate what needs keeping and what can be disposed of. Even then there are options – the charity shop, Ebay or the local dump.
The second problem is the dependency issue. When every space is full there is no wriggle room, no temporary holding space for the stuff you wish to sort out. Without the wriggle room, one creates additional chaos whilst deciding what stays and what goes.
Then there is the mother of all problems, procrastination. This is the real enemy of the great sort out. The other problems pale into insignificance when indecision forces its way into the battle.
For example, I have a cardboard box on the garage bench containing a miscellany of screws, bolts, washers, nuts, bits from long forgotten tools or appliances and any manner of other workshop-related stuff. It has sat there for years awaiting a sort out or a decision. I should be brutal and, without a moment’s reflection chuck the whole lot out. But I know, to the point of absolute certainty, that there is something at least useful, if not essential, in that box which I will need within days of chucking it all out.
So how does one solve this problem? Every year I advance to a point where, just maybe, I will crack the problem once and for all. It is like attempting the Rubik’s Cube and being within a whisker of completing it only to realise you are as far away as ever.
In reality, I have no grand solution. Short of moving into a warehouse with an endless supply of places in which to store things I will forever be stuck in a doom loop over the management of stuff.
But if I cannot bring myself to carry out an extreme declutter, I will ensure that my clutter is labelled and neatly stored. This at least serves three purposes. Firstly, I know what I have. Secondly, I know where it is. And thirdly, if I do not get around to solving the ultimate problem, my children should have an easier time of completing the task on my behalf once I have finally exited the stage.
A few years after we moved into our house, our elderly neighbour, Flossie, died in her home. Her only living relatives resided in Peru and Kenya. They duly came over to sort out her affairs and her possessions. Having cherry picked what they wanted to keep the remains of Flossie’s possessions were bagged up to be dumped. A life reduced to black sacks was a pathetic sight and even now it saddens me to think of it.
It leaves me with a determination to do the job myself. Furthermore, it reminds me that in reality we do not really own things but rather we are stewards caring for a miscellany of possessions whilst alive. Better then to have fewer things and to look after them such that someone, at some future time, may appreciate them before, in their turn, passing them on again.
Nicholas Engert is the founder and creative director of Nicholas Engert Interiors, a studio known for its timeless, elegant and understated design philosophy. With decades of experience in interior architecture and design, Nicholas brings a refined eye and a wealth of knowledge to every project, blending form, function and character with a deep understanding of client needs. Every product featured in the studio’s collection is personally selected to meet exacting standards of quality, design, and aesthetic integrity.