I have a friend whose flat, when I visit, feels like stepping into someone else's mind. It's absolutely packed with stuff: cupboards full of mismatched mugs, little ceramic dogs sitting on the shelves, piles of books everywhere and, most impressively, a display case lovingly filled with dozens of tiny toys from chocolate eggs. The funny thing is, I always leave feeling calmer than I would in any minimalist, magazine-ready living room.
Clutter gets a bad name, but in a world where we're told to keep everything neat and efficient, its chaos feels stubbornly human. I think clutter, when done right, can be the clearest sign of a life being well lived. It shows that someone has character, taste and experiences they have grown from. I love seeing homes that look like people actually live in them. The worst feeling is entering someone's house and being met with completely clear walls and countertops, perfectly matching dinnerware sets and shelves full of spotless, untouched books. It's like stepping into a show home, one of those display rooms where nobody has ever actually lived.
Now don't get me wrong, there are levels to this, and I would draw a line between healthy clutter and two bad habits. One is buying for the sake of buying, picking up objects you felt nothing for in the shop. The other is never being able to let anything go, so everything stays whether you love it or not. But a true clutter lover is defined by a genuine love for the items they own and a careful, thoughtful approach to collecting more.
The objects don't need to be expensive or particularly fancy. A devoted collection of fridge magnets from holidays, or small things gathered over a lifetime of second-hand shopping, works just as well as expensive old statues or unusual art. Clutter does, however, need a good story behind it. If you can't tell me why you love something and where you bought it, think again about the reasons behind your collecting. Are you buying it because you'll treasure it for years to come, or for a quick thrill that will be forgotten by the time you get home?
At its best, clutter is proof of curiosity and passion. It's a physical record of what we've decided to keep in our lives through ups and downs, house moves and the routines of daily life. So here's my proposal: keep the weird mugs you love, the postcards you can't throw away and the tiny plastic unicorn you won at the fair in 2008. Let your house look like someone has lived a life there, because someone has.