Curated. Not Cluttered.
Is it clutter if it was collected intentionally and with purpose?
One minute, I was pondering how to install a gallery wall in my living room, and the next, I had spent six consecutive Saturdays scouring my favourite thrift stores for hours, to come home with a bootful of beautifully framed seascape paintings by anonymous (but very talented) artists and heavy vintage ceramic vases, jugs, and woven baskets in various shapes and sizes.
My husband joked that I was slowly but surely morphing into my hoarder parents, decorating every bare surface with ‘stuff’ and shiny trinkets.
But that’s the thing.
It’s not just stuff.
It’s not clutter either.
And I’m certainly not a hoarder (I insist, it’s not denial).
The pieces I’d discovered were collected with purpose and forethought.
And always with the intent to enhance, reflect, and tell the story of our home, coastal surroundings, and personal tastes.
If an object, whether a painting or a piece of decor, doesn’t speak to me, make sense in our space or encapsulate the feeling of home, it doesn’t make it to the boot of my car.
Every single item I purchase has pride of place. A thrifted straw picnic basket sits atop the industrial shelves in our dining area, alongside the vintage Singer sewing machine I stumbled upon in the basement and an assortment of cookbooks and Hawaiian souvenirs. Visually, they make sense together and hint at the story behind our house—a coastal bach that was built over 65 years ago as a place for a family to spend their summer vacations. The vacay, fun and retro vibes are strong in this abode.
On the rustic console below the beloved gallery wall is my cherished model wooden yacht, which I’d spent months searching for. I found it on Facebook Marketplace. The previous owner had tucked it away in a storage unit in Kerikeri for the last twenty years, or so he said. It makes our living room look and feel just right and is a physical manifestation of my obsession with yachts and sailing (a skill I’ve promised myself I will learn one day).
The gallery wall is the pièce de résistance of my decorating endeavour; my thrift store finds, seascape paintings, and a map of our local coastline are now proudly displayed next to mementos we’d brought back from our travels: the Native American arrow from Venice Beach, Arno’s boomerangs from Uluru…
Every little and big thing is carefully collected and curated to harmonise with each other. It is a vignette of our shared life and things that give us joy.
Curate vs Clutter
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the evolution of homemaking and trends. In the age of extreme consumerism and instant gratification, there has been a social beratement of stuff; we’re told that having too much of it in our homes hinders a more fulfilling life.
We’re encouraged to edit our personal spaces to a bland necessity, to keep what’s essential: a few pieces of furniture, a rug, a single lamp and maybe a pot plant or a painting. Anything more is labelled a distraction, frivolous, or simply too much.
But what is too much stuff? And why does it suddenly feel taboo to own a dozen or more ceramic bowls, throws, cushions, art, etc.?
Where does the avoidance of stuff leave room for creativity and self-expression?
I agree 100% that we should be mindful of our consumption, and hoarding clutter and junk we don’t want, use or need is unhealthy.
But there’s a difference between cluttering and curating, utilising lovingly collected objects to go beyond the ornery and as a way to turn otherwise characterless, impersonal spaces into our own.
To clutter is to fill a space with stuff messily, compulsively. It’s unhinged—no rhyme or reason, disordered and chaotic—Marie Kondo’s nightmare. You’ll know and feel it right away when you walk into a cluttered room: your skin might begin to crawl, and a sense of panic and anxiety sets in as you get the urge to straighten, tidy and throw stuff out.
Curated spaces have the opposite effect. They spark interest, joy, inspiration, and conversation. Think of a stylised bookcase filled with discerningly selected antique books and curios accumulated over time, holding sentimental value for its owners. Open shelves displaying an array of handcrafted ceramic cups, plates, bowls, and jugs, collected from all over the world, and organised harmoniously by colour and shape.
Curation is the art of editing and combining an assortment of objects to create a specific style or ‘vibe’ that elicits a desired emotion (E.g., warmth and cosiness). It’s a form of storytelling, considered, planned, thought out, intentional, and designed.
Self-expression through Collecting and Curating
Collecting, curating and decorating with a lot of stuff - whether figurines, vinyl records, plants, art, decor, cushions, throws, books, or furniture is self-expression, not a malady, or the symptoms of a hoarder in the making.
As a kid, I loved the movie Practical Magic, starring Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman. Their witchy aunts’ rambling Victorian mansion, with its herbarium, creaky floorboards, walls covered in floral wallpaper and rooms filled with antique furniture, was the stuff of my childhood fantasies. I wanted to live in the Owens’ house.
In hindsight, collecting vintage decor and making it my home’s entire personality is my inner child, trying to recreate my version of the Owens’ witchy house, I want to create a space with deep roots and stories embedded in its walls.
In my humble, midimalist opinion, physical objects we intentionally collect and showcase in our spaces are a tangible representation of our passions, personal journeys, and a state of being that goes far beyond ‘just stuff’; they create meaning and emotion.
