One of the best things about my work is that it brings me into contact with creative people and interesting spaces every day. As part of my job I get to go into people’s houses, see how they live, and then style their space so that a photographer can take beautiful pictures of it for a magazine or book. I also write about homes for the magazines you see at your local bookstore or in the checkout line at the grocery store.
Starting next week I’m going to be posting tips from interior designers, architects, homeowners, and other savvy design-conscious people. My Clutter Clobbering Tip will feature inspirational advice to help you tackle your clutter in a creative way. I’ll also be sharing photos from real homes that give you Organization Inspiration. As a bonus, whenever I run across a product that will help you get organized, you’ll see it here.
I’ll also keep you posted on the on-going saga of trying to make my own home clutter free. Believe me, it isn’t pretty, but I’m working on it. Any suggestions you have to share are welcome!
Showing posts with label magazines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magazines. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
In the Chaos of Clutter
Why is it so hard to keep a house clean and organized? Well, for me, the difficulty is compounded by the fact that as an interiors stylist for magazines I travel four or five days a week to make other people’s houses look camera-ready and by the time I get back to my own home I’m so tired of moving other people’s stuff around that I’d rather just collapse on the sofa, glass of wine in hand.
The very fact that I am a stylist means I have to have a lot of stuff on hand for photo shoots and I accumulate accessories at a ridiculous rate. Imagine if Imelda Marcos had a fetish not only for shoes, but also ironstone, milk glass, woven baskets, trays of all shapes and sizes, and enough vases and pots to transplant the Brooklyn Botanical Garden to Boise, Idaho. While I do have a prop room (it was once a very small bedroom), things spill out into the hallway, across the dining room table, into the living room, and replace useful kitchen pieces (basically all of my kitchen cabinets are now display areas for props). Plastic containers line one wall of the master bedroom. I have half a closet filled with tablecloths and throws of every color. I have another closet filled with all the items you would associate with a small business—reams of paper, compact discs, shipping materials, and rolls of bubble wrap. It’s amazing how much space that stuff takes up.
Further complicating manners is that as a writer and stylist I need to see what’s going on with the magazines for whom I work as well as their competition. I subscribe to dozens of magazines a month and constantly scour newsstands for new ones. I also receive in the mail new design books every month and continue to purchase those books I know I should get around to reading—The Architecture of Happiness, Domesticities, Albert Hadley. That along with my writer-husband’s passion for reading three or four newspapers a day (he refuses to do so online), makes our 1,600-square-foot house a virtual tinderbox awaiting a light.
The bottom line is that at some point in this long winter I made a decision that I could no longer be overwhelmed by my own home. I love this house, but it got to the point where I dreaded coming home to it because of the mess. Who wouldn’t choose an empty hotel room over a house that looked like it needed a bulldozer to carve a path from the kitchen to the dining room? I was overwhelmed by the mess, the clutter, the props, the inability to clean because there’s so much crap everywhere. It was even affecting my marriage. My poor husband felt like he was being forced out of his own home by piles of throw pillows, the numerous plants I bring home, and just the piles of junk I was accumulating.
So here in lies my fight to reclaim my house from clutter. Suggestions are welcome and good ones will be posted!
The very fact that I am a stylist means I have to have a lot of stuff on hand for photo shoots and I accumulate accessories at a ridiculous rate. Imagine if Imelda Marcos had a fetish not only for shoes, but also ironstone, milk glass, woven baskets, trays of all shapes and sizes, and enough vases and pots to transplant the Brooklyn Botanical Garden to Boise, Idaho. While I do have a prop room (it was once a very small bedroom), things spill out into the hallway, across the dining room table, into the living room, and replace useful kitchen pieces (basically all of my kitchen cabinets are now display areas for props). Plastic containers line one wall of the master bedroom. I have half a closet filled with tablecloths and throws of every color. I have another closet filled with all the items you would associate with a small business—reams of paper, compact discs, shipping materials, and rolls of bubble wrap. It’s amazing how much space that stuff takes up.
Further complicating manners is that as a writer and stylist I need to see what’s going on with the magazines for whom I work as well as their competition. I subscribe to dozens of magazines a month and constantly scour newsstands for new ones. I also receive in the mail new design books every month and continue to purchase those books I know I should get around to reading—The Architecture of Happiness, Domesticities, Albert Hadley. That along with my writer-husband’s passion for reading three or four newspapers a day (he refuses to do so online), makes our 1,600-square-foot house a virtual tinderbox awaiting a light.
The bottom line is that at some point in this long winter I made a decision that I could no longer be overwhelmed by my own home. I love this house, but it got to the point where I dreaded coming home to it because of the mess. Who wouldn’t choose an empty hotel room over a house that looked like it needed a bulldozer to carve a path from the kitchen to the dining room? I was overwhelmed by the mess, the clutter, the props, the inability to clean because there’s so much crap everywhere. It was even affecting my marriage. My poor husband felt like he was being forced out of his own home by piles of throw pillows, the numerous plants I bring home, and just the piles of junk I was accumulating.
So here in lies my fight to reclaim my house from clutter. Suggestions are welcome and good ones will be posted!
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