i’m kind of a reality show junkie. i mostly go for the competition shows, like the amazing race and top chef, but every now and then an episode of say yes to the dress or jersey shore makes its way onto my dvr. the reality shows i get into the most, though, are the down-and-dirty, raw documentary series — a la a&e’s obsessed and hoarders. i mean, what’s a couch potato to watch when she’s grown tired of all the scripted catfights and contestants talking shit in confessionals?
i was watching an archived dvr episode of hoarders a few weeks ago. it was the absolute worst episode i’ve ever seen of the show — the woman’s house was completely toxic, with ailing cats everywhere. sixteen dead cats were pulled from the disaster, and many were flattened completely by toppled debris and piles of junk. there was cat piss and droppings everywhere, making it impossible to salvage anything. and even as her crap was being dragged out of the house in biohazard bags (!!), she cried about how hard it was to see her possessions go. the show really makes you wonder how some folks get that depressed and that down and out to where they couldn’t care less about their health and interior situations, but i am guilty as charged of acute hoarding myself.
i really gotta get my boudoir in check. it’s embarrassing to admit, especially since i’m so passionate about aesthetics and interior/set design, but my bedroom has looked like a war zone for months now! it took me until two weeks ago (and that ep. of hoarders) to manifest the tiniest bit of motivation to get started on it. there’s just so much work to do. i swore up and down that once i turned 21, i’d reform my messy ways. alas, i’ve managed to regress into an even more pathetic pig. whoever coined the phrase, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” was on the money. i don’t think reform is impossible, but it’s a challenge. i’m just so used to my chaotic lifestyle — jumping over mountains (and mole hills) of clothing, dirty laundry piles toppling over into the clean pile, lost mates of socks and shoes that i miraculously manage to find last minute — it’s nothing short of a disaster.
if i were the subject of an episode of clean house (i’m probably two beats away from being eligible to apply), niecy nash would tell me that my clutter is a reflection of my inner emotions. it’s true, though. my bedroom is in shambles because my mind has been in shambles. the disarray? it’s full of clothes that no longer fit — the stuff i haven’t been able to face yet don’t want to see in my closet. ancient diary entries, failed art projects, fragments of my life that i don’t want to deal with, so i just toss them on the floor and kick-sweep ‘em into a corner of the room as if that’ll cease their existence.
the other night, though, i couldn’t even get a good night’s sleep because of the clutter that was literally surrounding my dreams. the state of my room was bothering me in a way that it never had before. i’ve been making a lot of positive changes in my life recently (socially, physically, and academically), so maybe my mind made itself up that my boudoir needs to catch up to the rest of me. so that night, i sat in my bed, and began planning out “mission: organized chaos.” i’ve had enough. i’m cleaning that bitch top to bottom and making it over; i’m on a mission to turn my disorganized chaos into… well, organized chaos. as much as i adore the look, i don’t think i’m going to be a modern minimalist any time soon, so i’m embracing my chaotic nature by taming the clutter and making it more visually interesting. in honor of my epiphany and as a boost of morale for the weeks of work ahead, here are some photos that have been inspiring me to curate my mess.
top to bottom: under my sombrero, an exhibit on forensic science featuring one of several incarnations of gil grissom’s office on csi: crime scene investigation @ the california science center, adidas installation @ we are awesome, markus wormstorm @ we are awesome, scan from interior alchemy @ organon9worlds (rebecca purcell’s work is a chaotically organized mini-hoarder’s wet dream)