Trash or treasure?
My mother's generation were the first to have 'a little extra' money. They were the first to own a house, and spent their hard earned cash slowly furnishing and decorating the home. Over time they added 'stuff' that they held in value; a plate collection, a Lladro figure, a wool rug, various incarnations of soft furnishings, so the kids born in the 60s grew up to be the ultimate consumers.
Spare cash came quickly as the job market boomed and housing was affordable, so we bought things. We filled our houses to the brim. Some of us were so blasé about the 'stuff', that it became disposable as we re-invented interior décor every 5 years. Perfectly good sofas were thrown away, just to change the colour scheme.
This habit was challenged for the first time when my husband and I downsized from 3 bed house with garden and shed, to a 2 bed flat in 2016. The de-cluttering was harsh and extreme. The loft, my sanctuary of memorabilia, my wedding dress, VHS, DVD and cassette tapes, framed pictures, spare bedding, kids toys and clothes held on for the grandchildren that will be totally unsuitable for, the course books, the endless Christmas decorations in various colours; all lovingly stored and then ignored. It had to go.
Furniture that was bought to fill the space rather then provide one, ornaments that littered 9 window ledges, curtains and blinds on 9 windows, 'best' china, the wedding cutlery set, the pots and pans and cooking tins, and the endless cushions. It all had to go.
In this space, our new space, we have settled on a storage solution we can live with. And if something comes in, something goes out. I've actually found it quite cathartic as it's made me really think about the things I hold dear.
The second challenge came when my father-in-law died recently. His house, a large family home he had cherished and lovingly filled for over 60 years is a museum.
The 'stuff' he held dear, is worthless to sell and unwanted by family members. There will be some things I can donate; his love of painting meant drawers of water colour painting books and brushes, and his love of baking meant floor to ceiling cupboards full of specialist cake decorating paraphernalia. All of this, I can find homes for, but the everyday surroundings, that were displayed, treasured, protected by fire alarms, locked in a safe place will be thrown away.
And sorting it is a mammoth task. The Swedes have a term called Death Cleansing where they reorganise their homes to de-clutter and re-organise their living space more efficiently. There are 2 more family homes that will need clearing eventually, and I am already trying to encourage their reluctant owners to do some cleansing, but it's not going well.
My daughters now have homes of their own, and I am interested to see how much clutter they collect.