I’ve always been a relatively neat and tidy soul – I find mess distracting and disorientating, but its only recently that I’ve fully discovered the delights of decluttering. Whether it’s an attempt to impose order on a world where I feel I’ve lost a little control, I don’t know, but I wish I could bottle the satisfaction to be gained from a really good sort out. Taking a drawer, a cupboard, or a shelf, emptying it, getting rid of the broken, the unused, the unwanted, the unflattering and putting it back in order gives me a deep level of contentment.
A beautifully colour coded wardrobe, where everything is clearly visible, fits me, is clean and works for me – well I’m still working towards that. One of the big challenges I’m facing at the moment is that since having a baby, I’m not only slightly bigger than I was, but I also feel as if my clothes need to grow up. And that’s difficult to come to terms with.
But shelf by shelf, drawer by drawer, I’m working through the clothes – each sweep is more ruthless than the last. And soon I hope I’ll have a wardrobe I’m happy to photograph and show in public.
But its an addition that could become a problem. When I’ve done my own, maybe I’ll have to start on other people’s?
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