Marie Kondo clean out sparks more confusion than joy

I am Marie Kondoing my life, says Suzanne Harrington. Not because I’m a neat freak with time on my hands, but because the house, despite being made of elastic, is bursting. Too many people, not enough space.

Will folding my bras make the place bigger? Can I Marie Kondo the dog? What about the teenage bedrooms, the floors of which have not been seen since 2014, a perfect setting for those documentaries about hoarders who have to be dug out with JCBs under an avalanche of empty pizza boxes and old socks? Good luck with that one, Marie Kondo.