Nat Locke: I’m full bottle on decluttering, not because I’ve done any, but I’ve watched every video online

As I emerge from my jetlag fog — and it has been a real pea souper this time — my Instagram algorithm seems to be trying to have a firm word with me.

It’s hard not to take it personally when every second post is spruiking the same message. If it really cared about me, the algorithm would have been pushing melatonin and sleep apps on to me, but instead it’s nagging me to declutter my house.

After that whole Marie Kondo period when we had to interrogate every possession to see if it sparked joy, I’ve been triggered by any suggestion of decluttering. I like the idea of it, in principle, but the actual doing of it is a bit of a challenge.

And no, you can’t count that skip bin episode from last year, because that was more of a garage-emptying than a decluttering. I didn’t have to make any decisions about anything, because everything had to go. Like an event at an overstocked carpet shop, or a farm clearing sale. Everything. Had. To. Go.

But that’s not what true decluttering is.

I am now the full bottle on decluttering, not because I’ve actually done any, but because I have watched every available video on the internet.

That’s the beauty of the algorithm. You watch one video on how to declutter the cupboard under your sink and then next minute, your feed is filled with videos that start with alluring statements like “Here are five brutal decluttering tips to get you started” and “Ten things you can declutter by the end of today” and you know what? I eat them up. In fact, the main reason that I haven’t done any decluttering is because I’m too busy watching Instagram videos on how to do it properly.

It turns out that there’s a whole corner of Instagram and TikTok that is occupied by women trying on every single thing in their wardrobe so they can decide what they should throw out.

My favourite one is a woman who seems to own literally hundreds of grey tank tops and she tries them all on. Every single one of them, even though each one is indistinguishable from the last. She then chooses roughly two of them to re-home, leaving her with only about seven hundred to choose from the next time she needs a grey tank top. It makes me feel a lot better about myself and is way more soothing than watching videos of Marie Kondo folding T-shirts.

All these experts have greatly helped me to understand my own struggles with decluttering. One of my (many) issues is that, while my intentions are good — some might say the best — I inevitably hit the obstacle of not really knowing how to dispose of the things that are taking up room in my house and in my heart.

I don’t mean all the perfectly good clothes and shoes that I donate to a bunch of worthy charities to be resold. I’m talking about the pants with the busted zips and the jumpers that the moths have merrily munched on and the undies being held together by a threadbare suggestion of elastic.

There isn’t enough room in my little red general waste bin, especially as it’s only collected once a fortnight. Am I going to have to get another skip bin?

I have sent a couple of boxes of stuff to Upparel, an organisation that recycles fabric, but there are things that even they won’t take. Like bras with underwires. I have heaps of them. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve googled “places that recycle bras” only to find programs that did a great job of it five years ago, but no more. And so the garbage bags filled with bras sit there, mocking me. And there’s no sign of a TikTok video to help me.

Now, before I go, I know you’re desperate to know what those ten things are that you can declutter by the end of today.

And so, as a public service, here they are: expired food in your fridge; old receipts and bills and paperwork; clothes that you haven’t worn in a year; broken things that you thought you might fix, but so far haven’t; duplicate kitchen items (nobody needs three rolling pins); unused apps on your phone; old make-up and skincare; random cables and chargers; shoes that don’t fit you properly; almost everything in your junk drawer.

There you go. Now you know what I’m doing this long weekend. If anyone needs a rolling pin or a bag of bras, hit me up.