Kevin Page: The delicate matter of giving a woman clothing decluttering advice

For Kevin Page, a "sort-out" means getting rid of unnecessary and unused stuff - like jackets for example. Mrs Page has different ideas. Photo / Getty Images

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So, our recent bathroom renovation is all done and Mrs P has decided we now need to have a good sort-out of the other rooms in our humble abode.

Having been down this very track before, I cringed when I heard the statement.

To me, a "sort-out" means getting shot of a whole load of unnecessary and unused stuff - like jackets for example - my clothing, which may just be taking up space you don't have because your beloved is rather partial to the old garment ... or 20.

Unfortunately, to Mrs P it means carefully folding and/or hanging clothes and wedging them into any available nook and cranny in the house. Getting rid of things – any things at all – is definitely not on the radar.

I figured I had two options.

One, just go ahead with it and fill up every square centimetre of available space or two, have yet another go at reasoning with my beloved before she ends up on one of those TV programmes about hoarders.

I'm always up for a challenge so I girded my loins and jumped straight in.

She would recall, I said, we used to live in a rather large house complete with oodles of closet space.

She nodded.

"Well, when we moved here, to this much smaller house, we agreed we would have a sort- out of all the stuff we no longer used because we simply would not have room for it all.
Remember?"

She nodded again.

"Well that never actually happened, did it?" I meekly suggested, knowing there was a fine line to be walked here and I was hovering very close to the wrong side of it.

This time there was no nod. Just one of those stares that suggested I may have been okay to talk to her like a child thus far, but the next words out of my mouth would be extremely crucial to any expected progress both in the sort-out and, in fact, for our continued relationship.

"I mean, take all those jackets you've got ...." I said.

Almost as the words tumbled out of my mouth, I knew I'd gone too far.

I had walked into the minefield that is the space between Mr Practicality, who believes you only need one or two jackets at any given time, and Mrs Life Is Too Short, who believes if you like it you should just buy it regardless.

I'm sure many of you will have visited this place. It can relate to anything of course, not just jackets.

Luckily, my beloved is not really one of those women who explode and chuck their eyebrow tweezers out of their makeup case.

But I did get the silent treatment for a while which is probably as bad.

Eventually, she came and found me and reported that sadly, she had reduced her tally of jackets. Naturally, I now felt awful because it felt like I'd harassed her into doing something she didn't really want to do.

I also felt somewhat confused. I mean, for practicality's sake, surely if you don't have enough space to fit in the things you have and you're always complaining about lack of space you have to get rid of some of them don't you? Or get a bigger place.

I avoided vocalising that last suggestion in case she took me up on it.

Anyway.

We went and had a look together and it seemed she had indeed had a good sort-out of her jackets and decided it was a pile that could go to the op shop for someone else to get the benefit of.

I congratulated her on her effort, but felt I should push on so inquired about the wardrobe in the spare room.

"There's none in that wardrobe," she said, as she went off to find a box for the ones she was giving away.

I have to say I was a little surprised.

I mean she probably had somewhere around 15 to 20 jackets and coats of varying styles in various places around the house and, while she'd made a good fist of reducing the tally, it didn't look to me like there were that many among the pile in front of me.

Oh well, I thought, I'd quit while I was ahead, make her a cuppa and congratulate her on the first step towards decluttering.

A day or so later I happened to find myself in the spare bedroom where, laid out neatly on the bed, were half a dozen jackets that were obviously not going anywhere outside the walls of our house.

"I thought you said there were no other jackets in that wardrobe?" I asked Mrs P as she entered to see what I was doing.

A wry smile came across her face.

"They're not in the wardrobe are they?" she said. "They're on the bed."

• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@northernadvocate.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field).