In Defense of Hoarding and an Ode to The Home Edit

I own 3,000+ books, hundreds of yarn skeins, more paint than Banksy, enough coffee cups to use a new one daily for an unreasonably long period of time, and 14 pairs of scissors. Among other things. I’m not giving up any of it.

I’m not going to Spring Clean this year. Nothing will go to a landfill, and sorry Goodwill, not today. I will not spend two hours on my knees scrubbing the kitchen floor tiles with a toothbrush. The windows can stay foggy, and I recommend not looking at my baseboards. My mother would be horrified and appalled – this is not how I was raised – but we just won’t tell her, okay? I have other things to do.

Like so many of us, I spent most of 2020 watching every nice show I could find as an escape from the ugliness that seemed to be everywhere. Nice bakers baking nice things? Check. The Roses? Double check. Then, late to the party, I discovered "The Home Edit" on Netflix and binged it all in one popcorn and wine fueled late night sitting (as you do).

I was enchanted and inspired, but I sat on those feeling for a while, unsure about where to start. I don’t have a walk-in pantry and the closet of my dreams is still just that – a dream. But now I know where to start. I’m going to scale my mountain of stuff. The stuff that overflows closets and creates avalanche hazards on shelves. I’m going to bin my hoards.

Now, I understand the problem with hoards. I mean, there’s a whole TV series on hoarders, and compulsive hoarding disorder is real, and really sad. For myself, I recognize that some of it comes as a result of a scarcity mindset. When you grow up without much, and throw some trauma and poverty into the mix, it’s not that surprising to end up with 14 pairs of scissors. Things break and get lost. What if I need a pair some day in the future, can’t find any, and can’t afford to buy new ones? Once a thing has happened once, you’re convinced it will always happen and you stockpile against those days.

I get that I have some issues to deal with. I’m working on them, but I’m also less inclined to judge myself and more inclined to forgive myself these days. I also know I’m not so far gone that I’ll end up on a TV show. In the meantime, thanks to "The Home Edit", I have an addition to my vocabulary that makes me feel so much better about my stuff, and myself: backstock.

This is a term that Clea and Joanna matter-of-factly toss around while discussing how to reorganize a client’s pantry/closet/garage. It encompasses all the things that are in excess of current needs. It’s surplus. Extras. It’s what you need when you run out of stuff. It’s a term familiar to anyone who has ever worked in a retail store that’s now part of our home lexicon. It’s my stuff! If there’s a term for, it can’t be that bad to have so many scissors, right?

The creative geniuses at "The Home Edit" have a number of solutions for organizing backstock, from clear open bins to rows of pretty, sturdy baskets. I’ve chosen clear, stackable storage bins with lids. One of my problems with storing things is the old “out of sight, out of mind” idea. Even a label on an opaque bin doesn’t help. I need visual reminders and cues. Oh, right, that’s where my green wool yarn is. Which I’ll know because I can see it.

My other problem is a lack of storage space. These bins will live in closets and on shelves, so they need to stack neatly. I found a set on Amazon that has little feet that fit into notches on the lids so there’s no danger of avalanches.

I’ve only just started this process but I feel better already. I think that's the magic of a good bin. I don’t really have a problem with having lots of stuff, but I do have a problem with random clutter and things that are hard to find. And also with things that fall on my head when I try to pull boxes out of closets. So, this year I am forgoing sparkling cleanliness in favor of organizing the clutter, because I really think that my stuff is a reflection of all the stuff in my head, and both could use a little work.