Apfel vs. Kondo: More and less
I left the screening of the documentary, "Iris" (directed by the late Albert Maysles) with mixed feelings. Mrs. Apfel is a direct, charming, iron-fist-in-heavily-embroidered-velvet-glove, blessed with a fearless and diverse talent for adornment. She owns a staggering amount of clothing and accessories, and is shown acquiring ever more, even as she tours a storage facility and murmurs, "I must do something about this."Buying more and more is a way of denying our mortality, and I am not referring only to octogenarians like Apfel. If there is always more to chase, acquire, and cram into already overflowing homes, we can pretend there is also always more time. It's as if the possessions were magical talismans, promising an endless path strewn with baubles.
Around the same time, I watched an episode of "Hoarders"; the differentiating characteristics between the two inveterate collectors were price point and public acceptance of the habit. The Apfel's apartment, cluttered with permanent holiday decor and stuffed animals, was uncannily like one "Hoarders" woman's, but the Apfels have a doorman.
Have you read Marie Kondo's "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up"? Several friends have adopted her KonMari method for simplifying, organizing and storing. Kondo starts from the question, What would an uncluttered living space do for you? (Apfel would likely retort, "Sweet f-all.")
Should you find that future compelling, Kondo prescribes several clear steps: Beginning with clothes (but eventually dealing with everything), reduce your number of belongings, keeping only things that "spark joy". Divest everything not fulfilling the criterion, and devise a specific storage place for what is left.
 |
| Folding, Kondo-style |
There is more; she is a master of folding; if you adopt her methods, you will feel as if you live at Muji.
But what about the chipped mug that your roommates gave you that summer you waitressed at a resort hotel? Your friend's Manolos that didn't fit her, so she gave them to you, except they don't fit you either, but you loved her gesture? Before they leave, photograph these objects and slip a print into your journal or add the shots to your screensavers.
I wondered, gifted with an eclectic eye like Iris Apfel's, does one inevitably become a magpie? ("More is more, and less is a bore", she says.) Could you deck yourself in enough jewelry to stock a shop, then throw on a '70s couture brocade coat and a big fur vest—and move around in comfort for a full day?
She is remarkable, and knows it. For the rest of us, Iris advises, "If your hair is done properly and you're wearing good shoes, you can get away with anything."
Even a Kondo closet?
Comments
Dresden figurine is not grandma. I may enjoy looking at an old book that belonged to my father but I do not need his entire library.
My vote would be Kondo, a vote for less.
Mme: I love this metaphor about leaving one's room in order. And sometimes Grandma's thimble is wise to keep, as it takes up little room, while Grandma's dresser is not.
Susan: My benevolent advice is that you have to not be •foistable•. B/c my mother lived so long, and had several large homes, I at one point had to say "no". We went through three stages:
1. Her persistence, my assertiveness: She'd just keep trying; I'd have to say, "Remember, I took two floor lamps last year. I really appreciate those, but I have no room for the twin beds and dresser."
2. A very grudging acknowledgment, mixed with some passive aggression: "I gave that set of Limoges to Lillian because •you• probably didn't want it." (Lesson is, you may not be offered some things you really would have liked. That's fair, it's her call.)
3. Detente. I accepted some things, but only maybe one-fifth of what she wanted. Some of it went straight to antique stores or church fundraising sales. She only asked once and I said I had given the item to my sister in law. (I had given something to her, but not that. White lie, to preserve relationship.)
The things you do accept, make sure she sees when she visits and tell her how special they are to you.
Now, when I do the same thing with my kids, I begin by saying, "IF you would like this... and no obligation."
Another thing is, they foist because it's easy. No dealing with antique dealers, no stress, no finding movers to take the thing somewhere.
For all that I still have several boxes of silver in storage.
Now I try not to add to my 'stuff'...yet my house is not exactly empty. More purging will be done this winter. I feel that things which aren't used or wanted are somehow dead and I'm happy to move them on to a new life, whether by donation or leaving it at the curb for whoever wants it - a great Toronto tradition. Over the years I've found I miss very little of what has gone, many times I don't even remember I had it.
As well, I see how much easier life can be without too much. And how, even if it isn't easier in some respects, without the stuff, one is forced to find compensations other than the material -- and those are almost always compensations that satisfy more deeply. . .
Iris sounds like an interesting gal...I must try to see that documentary as she must be a rather fascinating personality.
I have several friends who are serious collectors and they shop shop shop...their hobby is shopping and acquisition. Interesting to me is that they are childless and have no family left. I wonder if they are filling up a void?
My hobbies are gardening, playing bridge and Mah Jong...spending time with my grandchildren and elderly Mother and friends...
I am not judging...we are all different.
Not sure you have seen this year's Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog, but do a search for Iris and Neiman Marcus. The trunk and jewelry they commissioned is beyond over the top, but I love it. :)
Mardel: re "She refused until we all took things"- same with my mother, but I hope to break that cycle. A tour of antique or resale stores in any locale shows that not all family possessions are retained by the next generation.
mater: I sheepishly confess to having a small storage unit for a few family heirlooms my children do not yet have room to accommodate, but have spoken for- as well as boxes of required business records. But the moths wrecked the antique rugs and we were able to go to a very small unit. Still, that bugs me.
LPC: I am for keeping sentimental objects! Those would even be permitted in the Kondo world. She says "Keep what delights" but I would enlarge that to the LPC Principle, "Keep what evokes." However, I did get rid of things like several hundred cookie cutters and my Who Final Tour (OK, they did abut a dozen of those) t-shirt.
Murphy: I shall quote my sister's response to being told "that's your problem": "OK Mom, we'll just put it on the $10 table."
hostess: I think whether one is "minimilist" is an extremely relative term, and there is no standard. But I would say that you are not quite where Kondo is, nor would everyone want to be. I especially enjoy shopping with people who are still acquiring specific things they will love and use; they take it home and I have the pleasure of the hunt!
Re: Iris Apfel, I appreciate her artistry and what she has been able to do as far as creating a unique look for herself, and she truly does seem to enjoy her "stuff." Would make me crazy, but she'd probably find my style boring as hell.
I enjoyed Kondo's book but felt she was looking through the wrong end of the telescope a bit - she essentially says 'make a neat row and if something will not fit, throw it out'. I prefer to try to contrive a way to make it fit neatly somewhere.
The thing that transformed my clothes storage was buying a folding template. So fab! T-shirts, sweaters, scarves - they are all exactly the same size now when folded and stack or fill a drawer beautifully.
My daughter thought the template was a bit over the top when she first saw it, but quickly began to see the practical and aesthetic benefits! Though she is yet to buy one for her home...
Jane
As for organizing, I am not a natural organizer and so I follow a short list of principles: 1. Where would I look for this if I needed it? That's where I store it. 2. It should be easier to put things away than to get them out (so anything that doesn't go on a hanger gets tossed in a drawer without folding or organizing by color or any such thing-only exception, underwire bras which are folded and stacked in a single drawer-organizer box). 3. Multiples can make life easier: there's a pair of scissors, tape, notebook, and writing utensils in almost every room of the house so nobody walks around asking where they are and then failing to return them.
Where I excel is maintenance that extends useful life. I never do laundry without resewing a loose button on something. I polish my shoes weekly. I spot-clean and air clothes out rather than frequent washing or drycleaning.
It's lovely that we can each choose different ways to make the stuff in our lives work for us instead of us working for the stuff.
I spent the weekend at a home where the hostess had simplified by a Konmari method. It was a lovely, serene and peaceful place just suited to the two meditators who lived there.
I think my place is hopeless. Doing it 'all at once' will take at least two years. My departure plan is to tell the kids to take what they want and hire an auctioneer.