Once upon a time in crawl space sat a treasure box. Well, a treasure box disguised as a Tupperware bin. Up until last weekend, it housed more than thirty batik fabric pieces I collected during my trips to Bali, Indonesia - last trip being in 2002. I consider them to be some of the most beautiful things I own, attached to so many beautiful memories. I bought them with intentions of cutting them up into so many projects, but there they sat, eternally folded, lonely, and probably missing Bali too. Recently, I asked myself, “How special is an object if it never sees the light of day?”
A few years back I turned my most beloved antique one into two pillowcases that I now sleep on every night. This is the one that I would have liked to preserve as if it were the Constitution in the Archives. It was the softest piece of cotton I’ve ever touched and begged so many questions about who wore it. It’s so much happier under my head though, and I’m so much happier being reminded of my trips every time I go to bed. The rest remained boxed tight in the dark.
Many of you know I’ve been on my own personal decluttering bender lately. First it was the Domino Magazine collection, then it was my only bookcase, and this recent attack was on this fabric collection. No one is safe here at Planet Kacy. You should see what I just did to my cook books…. So there the remaining thirty some batiks sat.
Even though I have enough storage space, my inner organizer is always nagging me to keep it as empty as possible. Being your own professional organizer comes with a lot of chatter upstairs. She constantly nags, “If it’s stored, why do you need it? If you never see it, why is it there? Yes you have beautiful things tucked away, but aren’t your favorite things already out?” So a few weekends ago I gave in and brought out that box.
Like most organizing projects, parts were harder than I thought and parts were easier than I thought:
The hard parts:
- The beginning.
- All of the “But this one is so beautiful!” moments.
- Remembering details about purchasing each and every one.
- Deciding which first few pieces would go.
The easy parts:
- Deciding which ones would go (these on the right) after getting my sea legs with letting go of the first few.
- Pretty containerizing at the very end for the pieces I kept. I repurposed a stray jumbo apothecary jar.
- Coming up with some rules. Let it go if it’s:
- Machine made (as opposed to hand-dyed).
- Pre-fabricated for a piece of furniture I don’t own (ie: a square tablecloth)
- Was a gift and I’m only keeping it because it’s a gift. I cherished that gift long enough, right? Nobody said we have to keep gifts forever.
So in the end, I was left with a mostly empty box, a beautiful one-of-a-kind display, and ten batiks to sell. I can enjoy these pieces instead of bemoan the space they take up.
What are you “hoarding” that is too special to use? Is it note cards you picked up overseas? Is it a pen that was gifted to you? Is it a collection from your travels that you thought too beautiful to display in your office? Do you have a collection in mind that you can dismantle, condense, and finally start enjoying? Please share in the comments!