I am a big advocate for what I like to call “curated clutter.”
Clutter may be an unfashionable thing to celebrate, but frankly, who cares? To my mind, it’s what makes a room, lending it depth, intrigue, and most importantly, personality. How else are you meant to show off who you are if not through your lifetime collection of Sylvanian Families or Clarice Cliff pottery?
An elaborate oak-branch-shaped chandelier hangs in the second living room of Alessandro Michele’s sprawling Roman apartment.Photographed by François Halard, Vogue, December 2023
The truth is, I don’t think I will ever come close to being a minimalist. I often flirt with the idea of what it would be like to live in an Axel Vervoordt interior, or a John Pawson house, then I quickly come to the resounding realization that I wouldn’t last five small minutes. I’d be down the car boot and in and out of charity shops faster than you could say “minimal,” desperate to fill every single serene, stark raw plaster surface with my displays of nonsensical clutter.
But with the sweet smell of spring finally lingering in the air, it’s once again that time when we reach for the duster and roll out the bin bags in readiness for the annual spring clean. Only last week, I took four bin bags of clothes and two boxes of never-seen-the-light-of-day, what-the-hell-was-I-thinking market finds to the charity shop.
