The war on clutter continues. In previous reality-TV skirmishes with America’s junk-filled closets and overstuffed garages, shows about cleaning tried to sass and snark people into a state of tidiness.
Now it’s Marie Kondo to the rescue in Netflix’s happily engaging new reality series, “Tidying Up With Marie Kondo” (available for streaming Jan. 1).
The show isn’t all that revelatory, but it certainly qualifies as a fine New Year’s Day binge for people who intend to drag the Christmas tree to the curb sometime before Easter.
If you haven’t heard of Kondo, a successful Japanese home organizer, then you’ve probably been buried under a mound of still-tagged bargains from T.J. Maxx and Kohl’s.
The rest of us already know (and perhaps adhere to) the principles detailed in Kondo’s international bestseller, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up,” which advocates a five-step “KonMari” approach to evaluating one’s belongings on an emotional level.
If an object does not “spark joy” (in Kondo’s terms), it probably needs to go.
“Tidying Up” puts Kondo’s methods to the test in eight different Los Angeles-area homes, starting with that of Kevin and Rachel, whose situation seems most common: Two married adults with busy careers and two small children, not enough space and not enough time or energy left at the end of the day to stay ahead of the stuff they own.
Kondo, who is in her early 30s and also has two young children, arrives at her clients’ houses (accompanied by her translator, Marie Iida) full of squeaky, irresistibly cute enthusiasm, greeting their engorged closets and chaotic junk drawers with giddy discovery. “I love mess,” she declares.
Unlike her TV predecessors, Kondo brings a calming influence to the surroundings — even asking the owners if she may take a moment to kneel in a particular spot and silently greet their homes.
Sometimes she asks the homeowners to join in and offer unspoken thanks to their home for the shelter it has thus far provided.
This is a noble and overdue concept for the home makeover and real estate genre — a chance to express gratitude for any home, rather than the perfect home. Years of HGTV’s programming have placed homeowners and home-seekers on a narcissistic pedestal of entitled complaint (our house is too small, too ugly, too outdated) and criticisms.
How many couples, by now, have we seen walk through homes for sale and disparage the countertops, bathroom tiling and size of the backyard?
Where’s the reminder that we should be so lucky as to have lived in a state of acquisition rather than sacrifice?
The gratitude extends to Kondo’s lessons in culling.
Once Rachel has dragged a few closets’ worth of her massive, mostly casual wardrobe and piled everything on the bed, per Kondo’s instructions, she is asked to “thank” an item of clothing before discarding it.
It’s a long process, topped off with Kondo’s insistence that the remaining T-shirts, underwear and socks be folded into consistent rectangular shapes that line up in drawers like cute, obedient children.
Herein lies the happiness. You might not run to your dresser to immediately duplicate it, but you’ll at least be tempted.
The vicarious, lookie-loo factor can be appealing on its own. Other viewers may watch to get the inspiration to tackle some of their own closets and drawers. Kondo’s methods make good sense, dividing the work into categories – clothes first, then books, then papers, followed by a catchall category, “komono” (miscellaneous), which includes the kitchen, bathrooms, garage and miscellaneous spots where stuff accumulates.
She saves sentimental objects for last, and it’s here where the owners must really buckle down and assess whether they are keeping something out of a sense of duty or true joy.
To her credit, Kondo is not a makeover artist. She effuses over any form of progress, happy to overlook matters of taste and decor. As such, “Tidying Up” isn’t filled with the sort of visually appealing reveals that viewers expect from other home-improvement shows.
