On the first Sunday of the new year, Ross Sharp dumped all his clothes on to the floor and set a timer for 30 minutes. It was long overdue, he thought, to have a proper clear out. There was a lot: “training-wear for rugby, gym-wear, jumpers, shorts, pyjamas, just all kinds of nonsense,” he says. By the time Sharp packed six bin bags with clothing to be sold, donated or disposed of, he’d blown straight through the alarm.
The declutter was liberating and exciting, says Sharp, who works in buying and procurement in Northampton. January is often the chosen month to declutter wardrobes and clear out homes of unwanted possessions, with many people donating to charity or reselling online.
Decluttering can be emotionally difficult for many people, as memories become locked in items. But it also provides a sense of release , according to people who got in touch with the Guardian to share their experiences.
‘I am more than what I wear’
Sharp, 38, says in recent years his relationship to his apparel has gradually changed. “I’ve always been sort of clothes-centric, thinking that the more outfits you have, the more interesting that makes you as a person,” he says.
He ran out of space and found himself trying to maximise storage: rolling up items, putting multiple trousers on the same hanger, clothes scattered at the bottom of his wardrobe, two more boxes in the loft.
But, for instance at work, “the reality is I only really cycle through maybe four outfits”, Sharp says.
“The closer I get to 40 the more I realise how much of my life has been spent procrastinating over what new shirt or trainers to buy.”
His declutter is part of a bigger shift in being more comfortable in himself – “not seeing what I wear, brand-wise or style-wise, as being the most important part of me”. Now he realises: “I am more than what I wear.”
“I don’t have the anxiety of opening my wardrobe and trying to flick through all the shit that I have in there as much as I used to,” he says.
Some things he rediscovered, though, survived the cull. A pair or leopard-print shorts he hadn’t seen in ages. “They’ve definitely stayed,” he says.
‘With the cost of living crisis, I’m struggling financially’
For Angharad Williams, a 35-year-old analyst based in Leamington Spa, stuff seems to pile up – books, paperwork, household items – in every room. So she’s split her home into 11 designated areas, such as the garage or spare room, and will focus on one a month, starting with a cupboard above the stairs.
“Chunk it up, break it down, make it easier to tackle,” she says.
One motivating factor for Williams is the cost of living crisis, with decluttering and selling items on places like Vinted or eBay offering a chance for extra money. “I’m having to say no to a lot more” such as theatre tickets or meals with friends. “With the cost of living crisis, I’m struggling financially,” she adds – so potentially hundreds of pounds from unwanted things is a big attraction
Two of Williams’ 11 areas to sort are her phone and laptop “because digital decluttering is really important as well”, she says. And she hopes the year-long mission has a positive upshot for her mental health. “Having a lot of clutter in your space will clutter up your head as well.”
‘Our memories are not in our things, they are inside us’
Irina Cristache has moved around a lot – Canterbury, Reading, Manchester, now London – in the 10 years since she moved to the UK from Romania. That means she’s learned to let go of the unnecessary.
But there are still items that have sentimental value – such as plush toys, gifts, games and books – which she finds hard to part with. But Cristache, a 29-year-old UX designer, has come to understand that treasured memories reside within her, not in her things. The dresses she wore to graduation or on the first date with her husband, for instance, no longer need to be kept – it’s the photos and recollections that matter.
“Decluttering can be a bittersweet experience,” she says. “Saying goodbye to objects tied to memories can feel like saying goodbye to moments themselves,” but she finds the process is liberating. “Each item released is a weight lifted, making room for fresh experiences and uncluttered living.”
Cristache does worry about the environmental impact of clearing out – so tries to resell her unwanted attire, then says she often donates a percentage to charity.
Her thinking was inspired by a documentary The Minimalists. “One of the lines that stuck with me was that our memories are not in our things, they are inside us, so whenever I have a hard time letting go of something, I think of that,” she says.
‘The emotional hit blocked me from doing anything’
Kevin Hearth said dispensing with his former partner’s belongings, who died seven years ago, has been particularly difficult as he tackles a “total decluttering” of his home in Spain.
Over the years, Hearth, 66, has inherited two properties, and their contents are now swamping his three-bedroom home south of Barcelona. One room is “entirely devoted to stuff”, he says, and the attic space is “full of boxes, clothes, cooking utensils”.
Hearth, a retired simultaneous translator originally from Pembrokeshire, Wales, says letting go of his late ex-partner Santos’s stuff made him falter. The couple were together for over a decade and remained close until Santos’s death.
“The whole pile just looked too massive, too difficult, too onerous to handle, so when Santos’s stuff was added to it, the emotional hit blocked me from doing anything but stare at it,” he says. He often ended up repacking boxes.
“I still find it hard,” he says. But decluttering also brings glimmers of joy, as he rediscovers lost or forgotten items.
“I came across a framed photo, which Santos had written on the back: ‘So that you remember me in my old age’,” adds Hearth. “It is very poignant for me as I have never gone a single day without remembering him.”