Storage Bins are my Enemy

I know these are fighting words in the organization and decluttering communities, but this is strictly about my own beef with how storage bins are *too* good at their jobs.

I get clutter-blindness rather quickly, which means that it’s easy for me to forget for days on end to put away my bag of bags and wallet after going grocery shopping (or months, if we’re talking about the one paperclip that is just out of reach under my desk when I sweep the floor). I also find it hard to remember what all I have unless I can see it – which has even happened with clothing, where, once, my closet was so jam packed that I forgot entirely about 10+ items and was pleasantly surprised to refind them (and then reckoned with why I have so many navy blue tops that they all blend into each other). Which is where storage bins come in.

For my style of organizing, things that are not regularly in use will be tucked away in drawers, under my bed in zipper-top containers, or within one of many compartments in my arts supply half-wall unit. For everything else, I keep a fairly open-concept style: my closet doors are open so I can see the hanging clothing and my shoes; my earrings hang from a ribbon on the wall (barring those which came in a box, which, unsurprisingly, aren’t worn as often); my body products are on a small shelving unit in my washroom instead of under the sink; and I took off my pantry/cupboard doors so I could see everything (my kitchen is tiny and I would bonk my head a lot reaching for spices, so that’s a 50/50 on my motivation to do so). Think of the way that a bookcase is curated and organized, and that’s what I strive for throughout my apartment as a whole.

Where my cattle ranch’s worth of beef comes in is that at least a small part of my continued shopping habits from 2018-2020 were fuelled by not knowing just how much I had because it was all in storage bins. Dresses and tops that easily get shoulder dents from narrow hangers? Storage bin. Easy gift items for the holidays? Storage bin. $400 of yarn, all rolled up but not in use? Storage bin (that I could barely close). Fountain pen refills? Ziploc bag, in a pencil case, in a storage bin. I have no idea how many candles/ornaments/mugs/treat kits I have, so what would I do while I was out and about? Buy more, just in case. Nothing sounds as backwards as “Well, this bath gift kit is a backup in case there’s someone I forget, even though I’m buying it on Boxing Day for the following year,” but that was the logic I used (for the record, the kit in question is verging on claiming squatter’s rights for how long it’s been living in my closet).

Not to get off track or try to be too deep about storage, but I wonder if I would even need the bins for seasonal clothing if I had enough room in my closets and drawers for all of it? The top two shelves of my washroom shelf unit would be empty were it not for my 45 or so total backup body products, and even if I bought new when I reach the last 15% of a product, I could store them under my sink for the 4-5 remaining uses. Maybe I wouldn’t get rid of the half-wall unit that doubles as a standing desk since it houses infrequent-use stuff like tools and winter hats and scarves, but could I condense my infrequent-use items all into one place? Sounds like something to reflect on and maybe turn into a month-long project for May.

To clarify, I don’t have my heart set on a spartan, minimalist monochrome apartment with zero storage space. I just need to operate within my Goldilocks Zone of open storage for frequent-use items as opposed to using the wrong type of storage for my stuff. Or, you know, have slightly fewer total items in my dwelling to begin with.

Bye-Bye Bin & Wishlist – February

The bye-bye bin is STOCKED this month. I went through my apartment with the mindset of “do I use this anymore?” rather than “how can I still use this?” and it has resulted in a solid chunk of items on their way out.

What’s leaving? For one, I’ve gotten rid of extra pillow cases. I used to change them every other night to help with acne and frizzy hair, but since getting two silk pillow cases as gifts, I only need about 4-6 other pillow cases (I use three pillows, and I like the choice of still rotating cases out every half week or so). The clothing – llama scarf, two skirts, and a dress – are all items I’ve been on the fence about, but it’s been a year at this point, and they can go (I’ve reached for none of them). The Kirby, hexagon magnets, fun sticky notes, and posters are carry over from college days and can go onto a new dorm space. The art supplies are going to an art teacher – originally purchased as a gift for someone pre-2020, and I haven’t heard from them since, soooo in the bye-bye bin it goes. The purse poking out of the corner is going to my aunt if she wants it, and if not, I’m sure someone else in the family could make use of it. Finally, the lion was purchased for someone’s kid pre-2020, and the child has both grown out of that phase and has far too many toys (according to the mum).

What didn’t make it into the photo (aka, the stuff that I found after doing another sweep) include some tea from a gift set that I know I won’t drink, a 60%-full fabric spray bottle, and a laundry hanging rack that I don’t use at all (and haven’t for about three years).

Do I feel like my home is suddenly lighter for no longer having these items? Honestly, not really – other than the posters hanging up, most of these items were tucked away in various storage bins or drawers, so I wasn’t seeing them in the first place. Granted, the colourful cornucopia of the random stuff sticking out of the bye-bye bin is less of an eyesore now that it’s gone, so I’ll take that.


Regarding the wish-list, there’s still nothing that has met my criteria for being added. This doesn’t surprise me – I’m still not done flipping hangers, I’m spending less time on my main social media accounts (as in, my targeted ads are much more general – and sometimes wildly off-base), and I’ve been incredibly busy this month at work. I don’t want to broaden the definition of what belongs on the wish-list to be anything that catches my eye and I click on the ad, which I feel defeats the purpose since I’d be creating an emotional connection to something I wasn’t all that interested in to begin with.

I’ve also taken to thinking of rule-breaking purchases in light of how much something I want to do would cost: this $200 clothing haul would cover a flight to visit friends; this $150 craft haul is the price of a future textbook; this $50 book haul is a lunch out and a museum ticket. I’m not trying to be overly restrictive, but more so looking at long-term goals versus short-term dopamine.


Perhaps a more satisfactory way of looking at it is:
Items out: 37
Items in (not counting groceries): 0

Later this week, I’m going to chat about why I advocate a soft-start approach to personal projects – and then next Monday will be a review of February goals (already, I know!). Thanks for reading!