Marie Kondo has become quite the household name over the last year with her first book, "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up." I was totally into the soothing visualization exercises and suggestions in that book, although I have to admit, I found it a little repetitive and unrealistic at times. Still, when I saw another book on display at the bookstore in her signature blue watercolory style, I got excited. I couldn't wait to see what she'd come up with now!
The book is titled "Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up." The first thing I noticed is that the term "illustrated" was a little misleading. With the exception of the extensive diagrams on folding clothes, the illustrations were not intended to be educational. Here are a few examples:
Illustrations from "Spark Joy," from top left: A kitchen that sparks joy, wallet organization, sorting CDs, and displaying komono collectibles. Maybe adorable, but not super informative.
The next thing I noticed was that Ms. Kondo is serious about her folding instructions. Information on folding and storing clothing accounts for over 50 of the book's 270 pages, and includes how to fold heavy parkas, five types of socks, and two methods for folding underwear. (I dutifully tried both methods, and immediately returned to my own method of just putting them in the drawer unfolded. Ain't nobody got time for that.) I've already been using her "rise to the right" method of organizing my hanging clothes, so the section rehashing that concept wasn't of much use to me. After folding a few loads of laundry using her methods, I don't think any of her suggestions stuck. The one clothing storage suggestion that I have implemented is "treating bras like royalty." She suggests stacking bras in a basket the same way you see them displayed at Victoria's Secret, one behind the next.
This totally sparks joy for me.
After leafing through the book, I sat down to read. The book starts out with a rehash of "The Life-Changing Magic," which I'd already found rather repetitive. I was eager for some new information. She goes more deeply into identifying what sparks joy. My question about utilitarian items that you need around (for example, a toothbrush or a hammer) was addressed to some extent; she suggests that you shower them with praise:
"It might sound something like this: 'Hey! Look at you, slip. You're the best! Jet black and smooth as satin, you complement the line of my dress without ever stealing the show. What charming grace and elegance. Way to go!'"
I can't quite seem to bring myself to shower verbal praise onto my utilitarian items, but I'm sure it works for some people. I've always appreciated having the right tool for the job, though, so maybe my psychic appreciation is enough.
After discussing the need to dispose of everything that doesn't spark joy, on page 41 we're then advised to "Keep items in the gray zone with confidence," meaning, if you're not sure about whether it sparks joy, just keep it anyway! I can appreciate the sentiment for those who are great at identifying whether something sparks joy, but for the majority (probably all) of my clients, EVERYTHING is in the gray zone. For someone new to Ms. Kondo's methods, having permission to keep everything they're unsure about seems like a contradiction and a potential recipe for disaster.
This first part of the book is a somewhat haphazard collection of tips: she recommends dressing up around the house in old dance costumes, adding color to your home, and sorting items into materials of cloth, paper, and electric. (She returns to this last tip much later in the book, where she recommends smelling items to determine their material. After smelling a checkbook made of paper, her client decides it smells more like metal and apparently they create a separate category for that. This is followed by the caveat: "Some people don't discern distinct differences in smell the way I do, but the harder a client has worked to reduce, the more likely he or she is to nod in agreement... [the objects] may not actually have any odor, but it seems to be my sense of smell that registers the difference. The human senses have powers that cannot always be explained by logic."
Keeping an open mind and always curious to try new things, I smelled my stuff. Ms. Kondo explains that having lots of "electrical" things (which can include things like batteries and empty printer cartridges) can create an electrical charge in the entranceway of a home, and once tidied, there is a physical sense of relief. While smelling things, I realized how much i own in the "electrical" category, which just made me feel a little more stressed about the cords in my home. That tip backfired for me.
The majority of the book is "the tidying encyclopedia," which covers different categories of things and gives tips about storing them. Unfortunately, there is a lot of repeated material here (for example, about course paperwork, greeting cards, and a lot of the clothing content). Some sections seem pretty sparse; the section about DVDs and CDs is one page and just walks you through the "does this spark joy?" exercise, and while clothing gets 50 pages, the chapter on books is just six small pages with a lot of illustrations and without much advice. The paperwork chapter is eight pages. Meanwhile, advice on folding and storing plastic bags gets a diagram and three pages all to itself.
There are also more instances of contradictions. At one point she writes:
"It's true that when my clients' kitchens are tidied up, the cupboards are full to bursting while the counters are free of clutter. To get a frying pan, you have to slide it out from under a pile of other pots and pans, but when I ask my clients if this bothers them, they almost always respond, 'Actually, no. Doing this hasn't struck me as a bother even once.'"
Well isn't that nice for them. ;) But then later she recommends "keeping pots and pans to a minimum."
Other advice just seems too time-consuming. The suggestion to "remove any garish seals... [or] remove the labeling entirely" from bathroom deodorizers and cleaning products is a little much for many busy people. The statement that "storing [feminine hygiene products] in the plastic bags from the drugstore is out of the question" seems pretty strongly worded. Sure, storing them in "a rattan basket or box that brings me joy" is a nice idea, but I have bigger priorities in my life. Not to mention the underwear-folding.
In the end, I think Marie Kondo's approach is inspirational and nice to think about, but is unrealistic for a lot of folks, especially if you're a busy person and don't live alone. If you happen to have a ton of time to commit to her process and want to make it into a hobby, go for it! But to me, this book feels opportunistic, full of filler and repetition, and is (ironically) a little disorganized.