Dialogue: A place for it all, and all in its place

By ROANNE PARKER

Is it just me, or are plastic storage containers really as fabulous as they seem? That's the question I have asked myself this week, and my stringently conducted surveys have turned up some interesting facts.

It all started 10 years ago with the first baby and the need to get the teething rings off the floor. No, no, it started way before that, with the first wrapping paper-covered box I constructed to keep my School Cert study notes neat and tidy.

What a great feeling it is getting organised. I can't help but ask myself each time I see the latest junk mail whether I really couldn't do with some more deluxe plastic receptacles.

When I mentioned my obsession to some randomly selected people (from the recently dialled list on my mobile) I got nothing but concurrence.

My sister squealed with laughter and told me how irrationally happy she had been when she discovered a four-litre ice cream container at her place. She said: "It's one of those really big ones. I don't know where it came from but I love it! I want to use it wisely and not fill it up all at once." I'm serious, that's what she said.

The next friend I approached looked amazed and then delighted. She told me how her mother had lately spent $100 on storage solutions, completely rearranged her pantry and was such a zealot about the serenity that resulted that her daughter just had to run down and buy her own and get organising too.

Then there's the friend of a friend who badgered everyone she knew to come to her Tupperware party just so she could get the irresistible hostess bonus picnic set.

However it may seem to you, people like me find this behaviour perfectly understandable.

Buying these things is a buzz all right, but it's when you get home that the true thrill begins - the sorting, coding, grouping and regrouping of items by criteria that you tend to decide upon as you go along - groups as obvious as function (all kinds of garden tools) through to the questionable (things I need to give back to other people I don't see very often) to the truly bizarre (odd socks that resulted from all the washing done in the nine years I lived in Melbourne). It doesn't matter that a collection of odd socks is silly, as long as I am sure that they are where they should be.

Did you know that there are little plastic shelves you can stack things on and under that double the storage capacity of your pantry? Or that a tray many people would use as an in-box can be filled with everything you need to make a sandwich and slid from fridge to bench and back again - finally putting an end to those annoying little trips to get the butter and then the ham, cheese, tomato and mayo?

Aha! Now I've got you thinking. It's time to let go of the embarrassment and admit that Tupperware is a beautiful thing. It lasts about 100 years, and if only the lids weren't lost you could have passed it on to your grandchildren.

Now some words of advice. If it's in the $2 shop and looks cheap and nasty, don't be sucked in. The lid will shrink in the dishwasher and your system will be disrupted no end.

Try to get one whole set at a time. If you feed your habit little and often you'll end up with shelves full of things that don't stack or, worse, the colours might clash.

Don't overlook your office. Consider very carefully the level of structure you wish to achieve, then go for it.

I admit this is probably a bit of a girl thing, but there is a boy relation to this little flight of fancy. It's called duct tape. It's touching to see the blokes' eyes sparkle at the mention of the word. Apparently you can stick things with it.

And I read the other day of a big-brother style web-cam site that is set up so you can check in whenever you want to and watch in real time a huge ball of used duct tape in an aquarium as it sits there being duct tape.

Oh yes, you can see why they worship the stuff - or not - but I'll always have the perfect place to put it!