Upon arriving home from a gluttonous and tequila filled Christmas/New Year's sabbatical in Mexico, I was greeted with Marie Kondo's new show, Tidying Up, in my Netflix queue. In an effort to recover from a day of traumatizing travel and an overflowing suitcase of barely-worn vacation wear, I opted to watch the show as opposed to unpack. I quickly became entranced by Kondo's upbeat and tidy attitude. I particularly loved her reactions upon seeing any sort of mess, which she greeted with clapping, murmurs in Japanese and small jumps of excitement.
After about 3 episodes I looked around my apartment and decided it was time. I'm going to Marie Kondo this place. (Please note I will now be employing 'Marie Kondo' as a verb.) As I began Marie Kondo-ing my small studio I was shocked to see how much stuff I had! Truly shocked.
I started with my clothing which I stacked on top of my bed as instructed and proceeded to fold my t-shirts into rectangles that somehow manage to stand up once carefully placed in my dresser. From there I conquered every inch of my 500-square-foot space. I picked up each of my books and decided whether or not it "brought me joy", reorganized my pantry based on accessibility, and finally got rid of the endless supply of beauty products that I've never used. I even did a game-time trip to The Container Store to purchase bins, trays, and GLASS JARS to put my chickpea pasta in. It's safe to say I was drinking the Kool-Aid.
At the end of the day, I had multiple trash bags to get rid of, a stack going to The RealReal and a box prepped for Goodwill. Following the ordeal of getting rid of my extraneous goods I sat on my sofa and took in my newly cleansed space. I basked in it, pleased with myself, before getting ready for a dinner uptown. It wasn't until I was about to leave that I realized my wallet was missing. I retraced my steps and was finally forced to tear apart my now perfect apartment. I called The Container Store. Alas, it was gone.
I share this as a cautionary tale for those jumping into the Marie Kondo life too hard and too fast. While a streamlined apartment and promise of eternal happiness may seem enticing, take a moment to process what you're getting into because spending four hours replacing your credit cards, license, and other valuables may not be worth it. Be careful out there, Kondophiles.