GOLLUM AND MARIE KONDO

My sister’s into ‘minimalism’. She told me so last week. Apparently, she’s getting rid of anything that she either doesn’t need or doesn’t love.

I pondered that filter for a long time afterwards. Imagine scanning round your room, your kitchen, your loft and asking those two very basic questions. Do I need it? Do I love it?

There’s a smoothie blender. Do I love it? No. No, I don’t love it; it’s noisy and one time the lid popped off and covered the ceiling in kale gloop. Do I need it? Not right now. Should I get rid of it?

Hmm. The two basic questions mask some deeper considerations. The Inner Hoarder, locked inside of me like Gollum cradling the ring, knows full well I can’t predict the future.

“Imagines,” says he, obsequiously, “We mights need it, precious, we mights need it for fruits on sunny days, yes, yes, my precious.”

There’s a picture - Van Gogh’s Starry Night on a canvas print that turned out to be smaller than I expected when it came from Amazon. Do I love it? No. I wish it were twice as big. Can I get rid of it? Is it taking up space? Is it clutter? No.

Then there’s Marie Kondo. She’s the one who smiles sweetly and then ruthlessly bins everything that doesn’t bring you joy. I have a feeling that if she came round, even I myself wouldn’t make the cut! I might never be let back into my own home, and all that would be left would be an old teddy and a jar of golden shred marmalade.

To me, minimalism suggests that there is a sort of workable minimum you’re always aiming for - a baseline beneath which you would either run out of pants, or collapse into a heap on your floorboards. Do you need carpet? Really? Do they have carpet in the favelas of Sao Paolo? Does the carpet regularly bring you joy?

‘Need’ implies something greater and undefinable: a purpose. ‘Love’ implies a preference, usually for something sentimental or luxurious from your privilege. To run everything you own through those filters seems a bit confusing and maybe dangerous to me - especially if you’ve got Gollum and Marie Kondo whispering in your earholes.