Too ... much ... stuff

Yikes! Where can I put my stuff? A year ago I moved from a 2,000-plus-square-foot house, with yard and garage, into a two-bedroom apartment with neither, and believe me, I had piles galore in my house, and now I absolutely don’t know where to put all the papers, clothing, books, art supplies, photographs, stolen coasters, pretty baubles, magazine collections, photographs, candles, recyclable water bottles, fitness equipment, toys, DVDs, CDs, unpacked boxes, luggage, handbags, pet paraphernalia, financial statements, family heirlooms, work-related materials, keepsakes — like the wine bottle with the flamenco dancer and the yellow cork that I opened for a special occasion sometime last year …
Um, maybe I have too much stuff.

Decades ago my grandparents were forced to flee a nasty fascist dictator in their homeland, and they escaped with the belongings they could cram into two leather-bound suitcases: papers, clothing, a few photos and some food. I should be able to limit my worldly goods to the expanse of an 800 square-foot floor plan.

“With the growing popularity of lofts, flats and condos, and many homeowners choosing to downsize, spaces are becoming smaller, but that doesn’t mean that people have less stuff,” writes Tara Darby, lead anchor for Realty Times, host of a home building program.

“This leaves many folks searching for creative and inexpensive storage solutions for the home,” Darby says.
Then she says something very scary: Sift through your stuff and get rid of anything you don’t need. Specifically, “keep only those items which have a practical purpose or sentimental value.”

Here’s where I struggle. First of all, how do you know if something has practical value? Today’s disastrous silk jumpsuit with padded shoulders and bronze buttons the size of golf balls — not that I own something like that, but just for example — could be tomorrow’s super-hot trend, or at least next year’s Halloween costume. You see what I’m saying? Not to mention that I’m a highly tuned (some might say neurotic) individual and everything has sentimental value to me. From baby booties to birthday cards to — believe it or not — beautiful strands of my first husband’s hair. No, I did not scalp the man; he cut off his ponytail after our wedding, hence the brief marriage.

In other words, I need help. And I know exactly where to find it. My no-nonsense, ergonomically gifted best friend Megan Goehring, who, besides nurturing three children under 10 and encouraging an overworked but otherwise lovely husband, provides me with endless hours of sparkling conversation — and an iron hand when it comes to de-cluttering a home. I asked Megan about her secrets to storage success.

“The issue isn’t storage, it’s anti-storage,” she said with maddening precision. “The important thing is to continue getting rid of things that we’ve outgrown or are no longer useful. I always have a bag going, sitting by the front door, waiting to be filled and taken to a specific charity.”

And by specific, she means exact, explicit, unambiguous.

“There are different levels of resale options and charitable organizations,” she explains. “At the top you have consignment stores that sell like-new items. Then there are thrift stores. And then there’s freecycle, an online service through Yahoo that’s nationwide but divided into regions. You join their network and then you can post needs and availabilities.”

Megan has also developed a personal hand-me-down network among friends and colleagues, and she distinguishes among nonprofit organizations. Some groups sell bags full of old clothes to be rendered into rags, for example, while others actually distribute goods to the homeless. She prefers donating to the latter.

This is all extremely practical, solution-oriented information, and that’s why I turn to Megan, why I tout her abilities in print. I do want to get rid of stuff and organize that which remains. I want to reduce my life to its essentials, the way my grandparents did.
However …  Guess what peeks at me, as I write, from underneath the daybed in my office: one of those old, battered leather suitcases that transported my grandparents to the New World more than half a century ago. And I’m going to hang on to that.
    
Contact Joanna Dehn Beresford at truewrite@yahoo.com.