Clutter and the "Next Little Thing"

The recent story about tiny houses in the New York Times makes me smile. After living in a space the size of an office cubicle for a year and a half, any living space where you have room to take a few steps seems large.

The article neglects the obvious: that our friends the Japanese have always lived in tiny spaces. They do not complain. They find ways to conserve space: storing the bedding in a closet and rolling it out at night; building closet-like prefab fiberglass bathrooms; cooking in a kitchen barely large enough to turn around in. Thanks to that tiny kitchen, you might run down to the grocer for meal ingredients. Your limited private space makes you more likely to use public space for relaxing and general living; an evening stroll in one's pajamas is common in Japan. Tiny living space synergizes with ready access to public space to create a lifestyle where the personal and the communal are interwoven.

I don't mean to suggest that Japan is a utopia; it's just different. One lifestyle issue that plagues everyone who tries to live in a small space is CLUTTER. Those of us who enjoy acquiring meaningful (at least at the time) objects, know the depressing stagnation that can come from having a messy space. And those of us with children are in awe of our babies' magical powers when it comes to generating new possessions.

Some rules of thumb that have helped me in my quest for freedom in a small space:

Unbroken lines of sight are important.
Do not fill every inch of space. You need an open stretch of floor. A bare wall somewhere. These provide a visual cue that somehow relaxes the mind.

By the same token, do not spread objects out if you can cluster them instead. For example, if you arrange your potted plants in a clump on the windowsill, there will be plants and there will be the visual relief of windowsill. Plants that are spaced along the sill appear to fill the area, and your windowsill will appear cluttered.

You must arrange furnishings so as to optimize the square feet you do have. Perhaps the arrangement should chage depending on time of day. The Japanese stash bedding in a closet during the day, and set up futon on the open floor at night.

Reduce paperwork.
Ideally, you may not need a desk at all. Think about it. You can pay bills online; tote your laptop out when you need it; and stash it when you don't.

When you do get paper bills, don't 't keep them around; pay them and dispose of them. Paying over the phone using a credit card is quick and easy; if you choose instead to mail a check, do so at once.

Reduce the amount of mail you receive.
Register for the national "No Junk Mail List" (its actual name is something more poetic). Unlike the national Do-Not-Call registry, which is administrated by the Federal Government, and which telemarketers can be fined for disregarding, this is a private service that mail marketers can voluntarily access. So why would they take your name off their mailing lists? Because direct marketing to someone who doesn't want it costs them money. It's worth a try; you certainly won't receive more mail because of it! Of course, those pesky flier addressed to "Occupant", "Resident", or "Esteemed Neighbor" will probably continue.

Do your mail-order shopping online. When you place an order, request not to receive paper catalogs, and specifically request that the company also not share or sell your name. Similarly, when you subscribe to a magazine, remember to ask that they not share or sell your name. When stray mailings do arrive, immediately call to have them canceled. It's worth a minute of your time to prevent your name being sold to the next catalog, and the next.

Stash. But Wisely.
Small items you need ready access to can be stored in a cabinet. It can be a built-in cabinet, say in the kitchen; or a separate piece of furniture. Whatever you choose, it must have doors (or drawers) that close completely to present a clean uncluttered front. envelopes and arch supports and cloth napkin collection need to go somewhere. I'm currently using sleek-looking sideboard. Each shelf or drawer has its theme. For example: "personal health" (arch supports, first aid, extra ointments and lotions); "correspondence" (envelopes, stamps, address book, greeting cards); "gifts" (tchotchkes for regifting, pretty boxes, wrap, and ribbons); "dining" (cloth napkins and tablecloths). In a small house, there's no reason not to store your extra toiletries near your office supplies. Your storage area is never going to be far from the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the study.

Store it? Or send it to the store?
Small items you do not need ready access to are objects that your life in its current form probably doesn't require. Some people suggest putting these items--old clothes, old files--in opaque boxes or bags, mark them with a "dispose-by" date, and chuck them when you've lived that long without requiring the contents.

Especially if you are paying for storage, consider the monthly cost of retaining things you do not use, versus the value of the items and the trouble to reacquire them. A year's worth of storage costs at least $600. Are your unused treasures worth that?

If you don't need it, and it's small, it's probably an item of sentimental significance. Is there some way--besides entombment in a storage box--to memorialize the camp T-shirt you never wear, or a decade-old crumbling art project? I took digital photos of many of my crumbling childhood mementos. That made it easier to part with them, and I find that I don't miss them at all. If I'm feeling nostalgic, I can always call up the photo on my computer--where it takes up virtually no space at all.

If you live simply and are not afraid of second-hand items, it may behoove you to dispose of things and repurchase similar ones, rather than storing your treasures or letting them clutter your living space. I do this with clothes I'm tired of. I donate old shirts and skirts to the second-hand store where I bought them, and come home with "new" items. Essentially, the second-hand store functions as a sort of giant closet, from which I rent this season's outfits.

So donate what you aren't using. And when you do need something, you can often find it at Goodwill or a local thrift store for pennies on the dollar.

Clutter is just part of the story
Controlling clutter is an important aspect of living in a small space. But it's not the only consideration. Living in a small space entails a certain creativity. You will be forced to question your assumptions about what a living space needs, and what you need to live in a space. What do I really have to keep, and what can I digitize? What can I donate? What can do double duty?

Living a simple, ecologically-aware lifestyle means being unafraid to recycle and reuse objects. Controlling clutter means becoming free from bondage to your stuff.

P.S. ...a word on antiques
When the time does come to buy something, consider whether a new item is really necessary. Even discounting the issue of sustainability, used items are often superior. I have found that antiques are generally more sturdy, attractive and economical than new furniture. They retain their value well. And they are built to a scale appropriate for smaller spaces.

Relevant advice on life in small spaces from Treehugger here.