Moving house is one of the rare occasions in life when we are brought face to face with the reality of all our belongings — right down to the contents of the bottom kitchen drawer.

After a few days of wrapping Ikea glasses and packing boxes, I was ready to throw everything I owned away. And not just the random buckets of used-only-once cleaning products. I was also reevaluating the need for the things I genuinely loved, like the artworks I had bought on holidays and the books that would immediately start gathering dust again once placed back onto their relocated shelf. It all seemed like too much. Too much stuff to pack. To carry. To unpack. To maintain.

My partner and I talked about making a sea change for years. We wanted to leave life in Sydney behind for a simpler, lighter existence a little further up the coast. Now it was finally time to leap. Yet, here I was: Sitting on the floor of the half-empty apartment, feeling like the things we owned, owned us.

The dark side of decluttering sprees

Marie Kondo and Co make us believe that shedding our stuff is an act of personal liberation. And if my life were a Hollywood comedy, our moving day would have been the perfect moment for a whimsical montage. Items would be dumped in the bin, sold to strangers on Gumtree (the Australian version of Craigslist), and overflowing bags handed to happy and grateful looking volunteers at the charity store. A fun, carefree and – most importantly – instant transformation to minimalism that ends with us driving off into the sunset in a mostly empty moving truck.

Yet, this was real life, meaning that it didn’t just lack the soundtrack and time-lapse; the process was also a lot more complicated.

As someone trying to tread lightly on this planet, a decluttering spree epitomises much of what’s wrong with our modern relationship with stuff. It has little to do with the intentional decisions at the heart of minimalism.

We offload our possessions without much care, with many items going into landfills or overwhelming charity stores, making our act of liberation a burden on others and the planet. Additionally, there is usually little focus on addressing the underlying issues and buying behaviours that led us to accumulate so much in the first place.

So, instead of giving in on my impulse to create a grammable minimalist home overnight, I decided to master the art of ambling into minimalism using these three principles.

Use what you already own

Minimalism is as much about making the most of what you already have as it is about reducing your possessions. Interestingly, focusing on using what I owned didn’t turn out to be a limitation but a source of creativity and inspiration.

In the case of clothing, this meant raiding my wardrobe first before even thinking of buying anything new. Did I already have something similar in my closet? What items could I combine in new and exciting ways?

Some pieces weren’t quite my style anymore, so I took them to a local alteration studio to get sleeves removed or a hem taken up. I also rediscovered a few pieces of clothing I loved but rarely wore because I somehow thought they were ‘too much’ for day-to-day use. There is no better time than a global pandemic to remind oneself that life is too short to wait for special occasions to bust out your Sunday best!

And there are plenty of other ways to be resourceful with the things you already own, ranging from the mundane to the precious and unique. Bought some conditioner that makes your hair feel greasy? It will make an excellent substitute for shaving cream.

I even had my partner’s old skateboard deck turned into a custom artwork for his birthday. It’s now a conversation starter at every event at our house rather than gathering dust somewhere in storage.

It only takes some imagination and time to breathe new life into old things.

Offload your stuff responsibly

Even the most restrained consumers among us will accumulate things we don't need. Outdated, electronic equipment, clothes that no longer fit or gifts we never liked in the first place — the list goes on.

The trickiest part of moving toward minimalism can be to get rid of these things responsibly, especially if you don’t give yourself enough time.

In my experience, selling unwanted items is the best option because if somebody is willing to pay money for something, they will also likely use it. Facebook Marketplace, eBay and Craigslist are all great options for second-hand selling, but it can sometimes take a few weeks to find a new home for your stuff.

Selling my pre-loved items also helped me become a more mindful consumer. There’s nothing quite like only getting a third of what you paid for something you rarely used to make you think twice about your next purchase.

Donating to charity can also be a responsible way to minimise your belongings while helping those in need. However, anything you donate must be useful, clean and in good working condition. The not-for-profit sector does not have the resources to deal with non-functional items, and they will eventually end up in landfills anyway.

If I can neither sell nor donate items because they are beyond repair, I look for ways to recycle them, which can take a bit of research. Some fashion brands like Zara and H&M offer to recycle old clothes, no matter where you bought them. Nike takes any old sneakers, and many local councils will help you dispose of your electronic and chemical waste responsibly.

Putting something into general waste is the very last resort for me.

Refrain from re-accumulating

Once you have pared back your stuff, the biggest challenge is to develop strategies that will prevent you from re-accumulating new things.

After reading a few articles on minimalism online, you will get targeted with a wide variety of sleek, sustainable and minimal looking products to match your new lifestyle. Yet, no matter how cool these things may make you or your home appear, giving in to the temptation to buy is just a different form of consumerism. And there’s a risk that you will fall back into your old patterns — just with different kinds of stuff.

One strategy that has worked well for me is to consider how often I would use something before making a purchase. If it is rarely used, I will look for options to borrow or rent instead of buying. For example, I may ask a friend if I can wear one of their dresses for a special occasion or ask the neighbour if they mind lending me their ladder for a weekend. It’s not just a great way to save money and prevent new clutter but also to forge new connections in your community.

For items that I will use more frequently, I have started making lists to prevent me from giving in to my impulses. Whenever I feel like I need to buy something, I will put it on the list first. If it’s already on there, it’s a good indication that I will use it frequently and may warrant a purchase. If the item is not on the list, I will add it and wait to see if I think about it again. More often than not, the urge to buy will pass as quickly as it comes.

Finally, rethink how you, your friends and your family approach gifting. While it can be lovely to receive birthday gifts or surprises, many presents we receive are neither practical nor loved. Could there be different ways to show your appreciation and affection?

In our busy schedules, time can be one of the most precious gifts. So, I decided to find creative ways to spend more time with loved ones on their special days. For instance, I will always organise a hike followed by a lovely dinner to celebrate one friend’s birthday. The memories of these days will last a lifetime — and will never feel like a burden when it’s time for her to load the moving truck.