Yesterday I began the marathon job of packing. By this I don’t mean I was putting stuff into boxes – oh no. I’m not at that stage yet. By this I mean I started the dreaded clear out. You know – where you have to go through secret stores of hoarded things that you haven’t actually looked at in months – or even years.
I moved into my flat 2 years ago, and while on the surface it is tidy, clutter free and organised, there are some secret stashes of mess and junk. One such place is the cupboard in the spare room. We call it a cupboard, it’s actually large enough to comfortably have a den inside – think a beanbag, a TV and plenty of shelf space to store DVDs/snacks (how I wish we’d used it for that now!):
I mean, look at it. I’d love to say some of it is Housemate’s – but no. It’s all mine. You can imagine how little I wanted to get started on this pile of junk. I did everything but get started yesterday, until finally there was nothing for it but to wade in with bin bags in tow, and a bit of Ed Sheeran’s new album on.
The horrors I found in there…at one point I put my hand on something furry…After screaming, I then discovered my furry ear muffs (not a euphemism) which I’d been looking for all winter. Bonus.
Afterwards my cupboard now looks like this:
Look at the clear top shelf! Admire the space on the floor! And the stuff left on the shelves? All things I intend to pack and take to the new house (HOME!)
After this I needed a diet coke break. Standard.
Then I started on the next secret hideaway of junk – under the bed. Under my bed are two large storage boxes, which have never been emptied or looked at since I moved in, two years ago. I was intrigued to discover what was actually in these boxes.
As it turned out, millions of pairs SHOES (to the nearest million). That I have rarely worn. I decided to be ruthless and put most of them in a bag intended for a charity shop – after checking each pair and keeping a couple, of course. I also discovered a lot of junk – old makeup, random knick-nacks. All went in the bin. (I am BRUTAL).
After raiding these caches, I ended up with bags and bags of rubbish all over my spare room:
Foul isn’t it? Still, just think of the space saved when actually packing!
Afterwards I was a sweaty, dusty mess. Just awful. And today I start on every girl’s worst nightmare – the wardrobe clear out.
Repeat after me – I must be ruthless. I must be ruthless. I must be ruthless.
What are your tips for a successful wardrobe clear out? (I’m going to need all the help I can get!)