Am I the Only One Who Still Hasn’t Embraced Marie Kondo’s Methods at Home?

You’d have to be living under a rock to not know who Marie Kondo is. Scratch that, at this point even if you live underneath a rock, it’s probably carefully curated and only adorned with items that spark you joy.

From her best-selling book to an entire Netflix series, Marie Kondo has been revolutionizing the way people treat their homes and belongings—and it seems like everyone’s on board.

Who hasn’t spent their weekends discarding items that don’t spark them joy or mastering the vertical fold?

Well, me, for starters.

That’s right, I have a confession to make: I have yet to hop on the KonMari bandwagon. I haven’t read the book. I haven’t watched the show. And yes, my clothes are still folded horizontally.

Don’t get me wrong: I really respect Marie Kondo. Revolutionizing the organization industry is a huge accomplishment, and there’s no denying her tips have changed many, many lives (and homes). For me, the problem is I like my stuff.

No, I’m not a hoarder, but I am nostalgic. I cherish my memories and find keeping mementos from my past an easy way to walk down memory lane.

I still have all my cast T-shirts from the musicals I was in during middle school. I save petals from every bouquet of flowers my boyfriend has given me over the past four years. And if you gave me a card in the past five years, there’s a good chance it’s tucked away in my apartment’s media center.

Thinking back on it, it’s how I was raised. My mom saves everything from my sister’s and my childhood—really, everything. Letters we wrote to Santa, my favorite red Mary Jane shoes, book projects from elementary school. We still have all our American Girl dolls in the basement and, much to my father’s dismay, our 1995 Barbie Jeep car parked in the garage (sorry, Dad!). When my childhood best friend and I played with her mom’s old Barbie dolls, my mother always felt disappointed she didn’t keep her old dolls for my sister and I to play with.

Does a “Hamilton” playbill and my Barbie beach cruiser actively spark joy on the regular? Not exactly. I don’t get a warm, fuzzy feeling whenever I throw on an old T-shirt from my childhood. After all, it’s just a shirt. But these weird trinkets and knick-knacks make up the fabric of my life. They’re nice reminders of the life I’ve lead and little moments I might’ve forgotten otherwise.

Marie might argue you can always replenish the items you discard, and she’s right. You can always buy a new white T-shirt or another spatula for your kitchen; however, the plot thickens when it comes to, “If I were to discard any of them, they’re gone for good.” Unlike a spare white T-shirt or extra spatula, you can’t buy your memories back.

No, it’s not just my stuff that I like viewing; its everyone’s. Last summer, my boyfriend and I went to Portland, Maine, for the first time and found a bar literally filled with tchotchkes. Marie would hate it—but I love it. I love looking at the string of retro lunchboxes, hoping to find one I recognize from my childhood. I love walking around the space and perusing all the old typewriters and mannequins as if I’m in a museum. Some might find the place unsightly—and definitely disorganized—but I’m always impressed by how much time and effort it would take to find all this stuff.

I don’t believe keeping your stuff and having an organized home are mutually exclusive. As far as I’m concerned, it is possible to organize your mementos, and I try my best to do so in my apartment. The old rose petals are collected in a trinket dish on my bookshelf, my theater tees are folded away with the rest of my workout clothes and pajamas, and all those cards are stored in a Ziploc bag. And thankfully, my apartment has plenty of smart storage that makes it possible to fake my way to a seemingly minimalist space.

Could my home be more organized? Absolutely. Maybe Marie has some tips up her sleeve that I can integrate in my own space. Perhaps I should give the vertical fold a try—don’t worry, I’ll report back if I give it a shot.

But when it comes to cleansing my stuff, I have to disagree with you, Ms. Kondo. Because for me, cherishing my memories is what sparks joy.