Confessions of a ‘Collector’

In my opinion, the difference between a collector and a hoarder comes down to the perspective of the person who is in it versus the person who is observing it. For some people who live a minimalist lifestyle, they just can’t understand why other people surround themselves with a lot of stuff. For those of us who are packed to the rafters, the reasons vary widely from “I like to have nice things” to “I just can’t bear to part with anything.” Either way, there shouldn’t be any judgment. It is up to the individual to decide what their comfort level is and how they want to live.

A couple of months ago, I saw a story about a realtor who had a client she referred to as a hoarder. She described the situation as being very difficult for her because that homeowner didn’t clean out his junk on time. Understandable – deals need to be done. But I couldn’t help but wonder what that poor man was going through in trying to purge a lifetime of belongings before closing the door to his home for the last time. Downsizing is one of the most difficult things to do and it can be emotionally torturous deciding what to keep and what to throw, especially if you have a time limit. I have tried to do this many times in my life and I just get overwhelmed.

I knew from an early age that I liked to collect things – cool rocks that I found in the Tujunga wash, trinkets from vacations, the latest fad like gum wrapper chains. By age 10, I already had so many stuffed animals that they completely covered my bed, leaving little room for me. Rather than choosing the ones I liked best and removing the rest, I moved them all to the other side of my room. They smiled at me while I slept. As I grew, I eventually learned to clear things out but the newfound space only encouraged me to collect more. By the time I was a teenager with a job and an interest in buying clothes, my room and closet were so packed that I didn’t have room to hang them.

I’ll admit that, as an adult, I got very creative trying to justify my collections. I became an avid gardener and moved rocks, shells, statuary and “rusty things” out to the garden to lend interest between the plants. I shopped at garage sales and brought old things home that caught my eye. Later, when the house was overrun, I became an antiques dealer to manage it. When that didn’t quite reduce the overflow, we bought a ranch house in the high desert and furnished it with the extra vintage pieces, giving them new purpose … and us space to breathe. I don’t know why I find such joy in having old things.

I remember Jim Chase (who used to write for the CV Weekly back in the day) wrote an article in 2013 about cleaning his garage. He described his pile of 30 years as “digging through the accumulated geologic layers of flotsam and jetsam that come from raising four kids and multiple dogs and simply living blessedly full and active lives.” I like to think of my family’s accumulation in the same way, as a visible symbol of a life well lived.

This weekend, I decided it was time to start the process and cleared out the ranch garage. I braved the scary spiders, rat droppings and four frogs that jumped out and got the job done with surprisingly little angst. We now have a snazzy garage with vintage signs and tools on the wall. With the cabinets I previously saved from a kitchen remodel, we will have “a place for everything and everything in its place.”

On to the next project…

Susan Bolan
susanbolan710@gmail.com