I’ve never been one for following trends but recently read about one that really appeals to me. Swedish Death Cleaning. If you’re late to the party like I am, it’s all about getting rid of stuff that you wouldn’t want to burden people with in the event of your demise.
There’s no denying the fact that, on the face of it at least, it’s a tad morbid. It’s the kind of thing Morrissey would delight in singing about. But I like Morrissey. Well, I like his lyrics anyway.
There’s something immensely exciting about the idea of Swedish Death Cleaning. I really want to give it a go. Actually, I want it to be my new hobby.
Until now, we’ve been prolific accumulators of stuff. We haven’t been very good at getting rid of much of it though. We’ve outgrown our house too but can’t move until I’ve been self-employed for three years. Yet still, the meaningless tat piles up.
As I sit at my desk writing this, I can feel the clutter encroaching on me like Japanese knotweed. There are areas of carpet that we now call ‘the floordrobe’ and I think there may be an armchair in the corner of the room.
The loft is home to bags from defunct shops full of obsolete items and then there’s the cupboard under the stairs which may actually have the Ark of the Covenant in it.
The only trouble is that I’m very much in the minority. Kate has an emotional attachment to some of our clutter and hates getting rid of things in case they come in useful. Dylan’s bed, meanwhile, is like Smaug’s cave in The Hobbit.
Xander leaves a constant trail of detritus wherever he goes. Then there’s Amelie. She assumes that everything is hers and there’s hell to pay if she thinks she’s going to be deprived of it. Finally, the cat hates me so I assume she’s on everyone else’s side.
So I’m on a one-man mission. I briefly considered replacing all flat surfaces with sloping ones. That would only serve to prove my point and not solve the problem though.
So I need to first embark on a charm offensive to persuade the others of my new objective approach and then get ruthless. This isn’t to say I’m unsentimental. Things like photographs, the kids’ first clothes and achievement certificates are all, of course, safe.
It’s the things like the broken Tassimo machine, novelty drinking glasses, forgotten toys, bags full of ancient receipts and ticket stubs from a wine-tasting experience in Verona circa 2008 that need to go.
Once I’ve won over the rest of my family, I’m going to go on a bin bag/recycling box/charity shop/eBay spree. Once I’ve won them over.
Have you tried Swedish Death Cleaning? What would you get rid of first?