11. Kondo my Condo

If it didn’t spark joy, it was out. I was ruthless. I was going to streamline, have 33 items. It would be an effortless capsule of silk, cotton, cashmere. Flawless. The whole William Morris beauty thing in my flat; the whole Zuckerberg/Jobs clothes thing in my wardrobe. Simple. Clean. Efficient. Easy pieces. I was going to be more. With less.

I started with my clothes. I’d already decided I was a navy and grey person with a purple accent. Getting dressed was going to be easy because all of the decisions would already have been made for me. How efficient and peaceful my life was going to be once I had decluttered.

“Only very rich people can afford to live in such frugal elegance,” I thought. The chair I wanted cost two months wages.

My tech would have to be wireless. And white. Minimalists do white.

The ‘Maybe’ box was getting quite full. Every time I wanted to ‘Keep’ something sentimental, I thought that if Leo could do this, then so could I. He’s got six kids.

It will be so fulfilling and worthwhile. I wondered if books should have their spines facing inwards. Do tiny house people even have any books? Where do they put them?

I just need the perfect crockery now. Some Japanese hand made plates and bowls. Casual but functional. The Ikea and hand me down, starter home stuff I have at the moment is all mismatched.

Anyway, in my head I thought about how humble and modest I would feel when people saw the finished flat. Curated. Efficient. Sufficient.

A single orchid. A hand-blown glass vase from Italy that I held all the way home on the plane.

in the back of my mind I worried that I would regret it. What if Ryan and Josh ever came round? There’s only two chairs. I hope they never find my version of Monica’s closet aka ‘The Room of Requirement.’ Still, I have got four more chairs and two deckchairs in there.

You never see those rooms on Apartment Sponge.