Showing posts with label hoarding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hoarding. Show all posts

Edit, Edit, Edit

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So when it comes to photo albums, I guess this means we should be fairly brutal with the edits.

I've talked before about my tendency to take (and keep) a lot of photos. When I lived in New York it seemed like I took photos of every night out I ever had. Long before Facebook meant doing this was normal.

Me, in a cocktail bar, in New York. Many years ago. 


I've now gone through every one of those old photo albums and decided what to keep and what to discard, but I'm determined to keep up the habit of making physical photo albums -- despite our obsession with digital storage these days. I was discussing this with my Aunt while I was back in the States recently and neither of us are convinced that digital albums will stand the test of time. When someone is gone, they'll get lost in the shuffle. Whereas a physical album is much easier to keep track of and hand down to the generations. Because what is more fun than sitting around and looking at old photos? (Ok, not the most fun, that's reserved for golf of course, the Most Fun You Can Have With Your Clothes On.)

This means that now I have to take the old photos I've decided to keep and put them back into albums. Fine. But what to do going forward as the digital images keep stacking up? My experience reviewing the numerous bar shot photos from New York tells me one must have considerable distance from a time period to be a better editor. So don't make an album of a year at the end of the year -- make it five years down the line. Ergo my plan: make albums in five year chunks, with a look-back period of 5 years. That means this year, make an album for the period of 2005-2010. (For the digital type I still think Shutterfly offers the best value for money, which is annoying as I think they only ship to the U.S. -- any recommendations for the U.K.?)

I think once-in-a-lifetime holidays offer an exception for their own album, made much closer to the event, particularly when you want to remember specific things (maybe even something you've learned?). For example, the Hub and I are heading off to Egypt on a Nile cruise in a little over a week, which definitely qualifies as a once-in-a-lifetime vacation. I cannot see not making a physical album of that experience.

Some people aren't into photos, and I get that. And in some ways I envy them -- they are probably living in the moment more than me. But I get so much joy from looking through old photos and remembering fun times. My Grandmother has stacks of albums she put together over the years -- including family holidays, one for each of her 4 children and 8 grandchildren, and all the family weddings. At some point during each visit to her house, I steal up to the room upstairs, where some of them are kept and page through at least one. And with that strong a connection to her albums, how could I not want to keep my own?

Do you still keep physical photo albums? Or are you happy to go digital?

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Top Ten Things I Learned From My Massive Life-Changing Clearout

Now that my clear out is officially done, I wanted to share some of the things I learned. We finally "exchanged" on our house Monday, so will be moving into our new home in less than a month. I cannot believe that I actually finished this before moving, but wonders never cease.

10. You have no idea how much lurks hidden within your home. I am still getting over the shock of the bathroom clear out in which I believe my photo composition 'Bathroom Deconstructed' says it all:


9. My fascination with living in another country started young. Not only did I have two foreign pen pals (in Germany and Ireland), but I kept all the postcards sent to me from my Grandmother and Great Aunt Ruth & Uncle Rolland when they started taking trips to far off places. I also saved all the little dolls from different countries that Ruth brought back for me. The three weeks I spent in France when I was 17 was a major deal -- with its own scrapbook and itemized list of every franc I spent (I showed this to the Hub and he asked what happened to this frugal teenager?).

8. I now think twice, or even many more times about bringing things into our home. When I went to Krakow for the weekend I kept wanting to buy a souvenir. But then I would consider whether I really needed an object to remember my time there. I took a gazillion photos, like usual, anyway. I am especially skeptical of anything free:


7. Being neat is much easier when you have chosen the "right" number of belongings for you. I no longer feel controlled or overwhelmed by my possessions. And I can spend the extra time I have pruning around the edges -- I immediately know when it's not working out anymore between me and a pair of shoes.

6. Music used to be a big part of my life. It's kind of fallen by the wayside, so this was particularly informative.

5. When a category of items that you're clearing out gets tough, just break it down further. A good life lesson as well?

4. Buying anything -- particularly clothes -- is much easier. When you know what you have, what you need becomes much more clear. And if you need something, the universe will deliver it. (O.K., you might also need a job to pay for it or at least a credit card.)

3. I loved to record things. I was a prolific letter and journal writer. I had a bit of peripheral interest in art, but photography was my main visual interest and the number of photos taken tended to be inversely correlated with how much journaling I was doing at the time.

2. The majority of possessions shouldn't live squirreled away somewhere. If you have a possession because it gives you joy, then you should be able to see it and experience that joy.

1. Writing was clearly my greatest passion. It's so pervasive in my childhood belongings that I felt knocked over by it at times. And the clear out has given me space to consider this a little more seriously.

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Ten Bags Of Clothes

On Sunday my brain forgot that Monday, as a bank holiday (Queen's Birthday) was not actually Sunday. So there was no Bikram Yoga class at 3 p.m.. Not to worry, the extra hour and a half was a very good reason to do what I had been putting off – finishing up the "Great Clothing Clean Out."

On the bus back from the yoga studio (yes, I actually went all the way there) I pondered why I had been putting off the final stages. If you haven't read my original post, I'm finally getting rid of all the clothes I don't wear anymore, including (gasp!) the clothes that don't fit and the ones I've been holding onto for sentimental purposes.

I did give myself a small margin of error – two tiny cloth storage boxes. In which I deposited a few special dresses, including a bridesmaid dress, the old wool sweater I stole from my Dad when I was in high school, a pair of sweat pants I stole from my Mom in high school (when she reads this she will think I'm ridiculous) and a wool skirt my Grandmother made for my Mom that never quite fit her right, which ended up in my possession. I shortened it to make it a bit sexier – as sexy as blue tartan plaid can be – but it no longer fits.

I also saved a tee-shirt from the publication where the Hub and I worked when we first met. He actually made me keep that one – but don't tell him I told you that.

I had already made the purge from my closets and drawers, but I was procrastinating going through it all again, deciding what to throw away and what to give away, because I knew it would be hard. I am a sentimental person, and also, part of me is kind of sad that I don't fit into the clothes I wore in my 20s. I've been holding onto the hope that I'd get back into them. But regardless of what happens to my body, holding onto a lot (yes, 10 bags worth) of clothes that mostly don't fit isn't helping me in any way. Holding onto things you don't use is living in the past or the future. And that means living in fear. Leo Baubata at Zen Habits wrote a really good post on this recently – about using decluttering as Zen meditation.

But it was still hard. I felt the anxiety rise as I put the clothes in bags to go, but as with all anxiety, if you just hold tight and let it happen – instead of avoiding whatever it is that's causing it – the fear eventually dissipates. And I thought about the people who would stumble upon my cast-off clothes in the charity shop and actually wear them. Even after my smaller cousin went through a lot of them while she was here for the wedding, there were still nice things in the pile that someone else could be using.

I also discovered something else about my procrastination in the process. Whenever I am avoiding something, it's usually because I think it's going to be hard. And I basically run a little film in my head imagining how long it's going to take me and how difficult it will be. So in my pondering on the bus before I got home I decided I was going to change the reel. I started visualizing how I was going to tackle the clear out easily and quickly. I conceded that I might have a few moments of anxiety but I would deal with it OK and I'd finish the project easily before something we had planned at 6 p.m. And guess what… I did! It actually worked. So I plan to now test out my weird 'visualization' technique with other things I'm dreading. If it got me from a messy attic strewn with piles of clothes to 10 bags ready to go to the charity shop, it might just be an effective technique.

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The Great Clothing Clean Out

Clothes can often be loaded for women. They are our protection, a statement, and can represent what we desire or what we wish was better about ourselves. For some, buying clothes and going shopping can be great fun or a distraction. It can also be an addiction.

I have to admit, I am not the biggest fan of shopping. No matter how at peace you are with your body, sometimes it's no match for the dressing room lighting. Or pick out the wrong cut of skirt and suddenly you appear to have lumps jutting out of your body in places you didn't even know there was a problem. It's not for the faint of heart.

For me clothes shopping is also interlinked with my constant battle not to hang onto old clothes -- things that don't fit, don't look nice or just contain a sentimental value (but yet they sit stuffed away at the back of the closet or in the bottom of a drawer). What if I need it again? What if I ever do some painting and need overalls? I keep old pairs of jeans in case I can use the material to patch another pair. As if I have ever patched anything in my life.

Earlier this week I wrote about a program I watched on hoarding and it gave me a renewed drive to try to grapple with my pack-rat demons when it comes to my clothes.

And the truth is, that in the past few years I've got better. I try to do a good clean out of my clothes at the end of each summer/winter season (there are only two seasons in England - warmish and coldish). I seek some honesty with myself: did I actually wear it all season?

When my cousin came over for the wedding I asked her to go through all the clothes that no longer fit me. Twelve years my junior, in her early 20s, there was a lot of stuff that looked great on her. And it was much easier parting with things when I knew they were going to my lovely cousin.

But still, there are loads of dresses I hang on to that I don't wear and all sorts of strange things I can't seem to throw away, like oversized tee-shirts with the names of trade publications I once worked for stenciled on them. These are not high-fashion items I should be treasuring.

I think the crux of my problem lies in my refusal to see my own wardrobe as a changeable, living thing. I'm not even the type who buys 'investment' pieces! But the reality is that we buy new things all the time, our lives change, our jobs change, our shapes change, and our tastes change. Even if I like something a lot, I can grow tired of wearing it. And there's that old chestnut of hanging onto clothes that don't fit. If you lose or gain weight, guess what, you can buy new clothes – the ones you are holding onto may no longer be in style or to your taste anyway.

Keeping things that you actually wear now and make you feel good is the stuff equivalent to living in the moment.

So this past weekend I took my first step in the getting-rid-of-things-I-don't wear cold turkey process. Without questioning, I asked myself, 'do I wear this?' and if the answer was no, then I took it out of the drawer or closet. Everything is now sitting up in our attic for phase two.

I plan to ask myself three questions when the real sorting begins:

1. Do I wear this? Right now?
2. Do I feel good in this?
3. If neither are true, why am I hanging onto this… and it is rational or just emotional?

I'm planning to give myself a little leeway. I have two small storage boxes. I will allow myself to keep some sentimental items, but only as long as they fit into those two boxes. Everything else will go to the charity shop or be thrown away. I'll let you know how it goes.

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What I Wear Now (Right Now)

I was watching a fascinating program the other day on T.V. called 'Hoarders'. It's a show on the Bio channel (don't judge me) that aims to help hoarders clean up their homes and also deal with the mental health issues causing the hoarding in the first place.

It may sound unethical to put someone on television with mental health issues and let other people watch them, however, at least this program is trying to help. And there are some programs that put those with mental health issues on T.V. without trying to help them – which is pretty bad, in my opinion. Also, if someone watches a program like this and it encourages them to get help for any type of anxiety or obsessive-compulsive disorder that they are suffering from, it can only be a good thing. Right?

Laying aside whether or not I should have been watching this program, it really made me think about the way I deal with stuff. Objects. Things.

Hoarding is a real risk for me. As an anxious person, I do feel particularly attached to things, especially those that have sentimental value. I also just like having stuff. Especially extra stuff. Just in case I need it.

I'm determined to fight it, particularly as I get older, which is apparently when hoarding gets worse. Also, I feel surprisingly great when clutter is gone.

Apparently, like anything in life, there's a real spectrum of hoarders. From people who just have a lot of stuff (perhaps classified as the 'cluttery sort'), to those who literally keep garbage. The latter is considered a 'Stage 5' and often they are health risk to themselves and those around them.

Also, people generally can be prone to hoarding, but it is traumatic events in their life that cause it to get out of control. I was particularly struck by one woman on the program whose hoarding had worsened after she gave birth to a still-born son. One of the professionals on the show explained to the viewer that she was using hoarding as a coping mechanism. She was surrounding herself with things that were a part of her past or things she had bought for the future – but that she was no longer allowing herself to live in the present. 

This really hit home for me. That's exactly what excess stuff is really about. It's the embodiment of what, in my mind, is living in fear and misery. Being stuck in the past or the future and now allowing ourselves to experience the here and now.

I was in our spare bedroom last night looking at a blue fleece I had taken out of one of our closets. And I thought, "I don't wear that fleece anymore," but yet I had folded up to put up in the attic with the rest of my winter clothes. So why was I planning to keep it?

My Mom bought that fleece for me. It's a good brand. And I have a very fond memory of wearing it to visit my aunt in Holland, about a year and a half before she died of cancer. I know because there's a picture she took of me in the main square in Haarlem, smiling and wearing the blue fleece.

But I don't wear it anymore. Which made me think: what if I got rid of all the clothes I don't wear, right now, at this moment, no matter what the reason?

It was one of those moments, where your vision is clear and you can see the issue for what it is.

Getting rid of everything I don't wear would mean no longer having that yellow dress I once wore so much and wish I could still fit into. And the bridesmaid's dress from my friend's wedding in 2005. It would mean shedding all those things I keep 'just in case'.

Could I do it? I don't know. I'm kind of scared, but also completely exhilarated by the idea. I just might try it – I'll let you know.

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