I love folding clothes. I’m terrible at it, but I love it. I think I can blame Marie Kondo… I mean, I’m going to blame her. But, really I got the clothes folding bug years before reading her book The Magical Art of Tidying Up (that was the name of the book, wasn’t it?)

Marie Kondo says that folding your clothes is a way to be more tidy. And I totally get that. I feel like a more tidy person when I fold my clothes. As I say, I’m shit at it, but even so, I FEEL more tidy. Even though the folding is bad quality, with corners sticking out, and with the tendency to completely unravel as soon as I let go, even then I feel tidy. It makes me feel like I’ve got a handle on my life.

It’s really all you need, folding clothes. If you’re feeling depressed, fold some clothes. If you’ve lost your job, fold some clothes. If you’ve been transported to an isolated prison-island for airing your political views on your Twitter feed, fold some clothes. It will make you feel whole again.

The first time I learned about folding was in a video online, some years ago, about how to fold a T-shirt in a single movement. It revolutionised my life. No longer would I cram T-shirts into a bulging drawer. Now, I could fold up the T-shirt in a square and THEN cram it into the bulging drawer.

Suddenly, my life didn’t seem so disorganised. I was on top of the world. I was a real person for the first time ever.

Of course, I relapsed. It’s inevitable. At some point I couldn’t be arsed folding my T-shirt before putting it in my drawer.

Whenever I went into the drawer to try to find something decent to wear, I would inevitably be met by a pile of entangled cotton-wear springing out of the drawer to meet me as soon it saw even a tiny sliver of light. It was as if the T-shirts were all locked up in there like sardined prisoners and I was opening their jail cell for break time. What was the point in folding my T-shirts if my life always turned out a mess?

My life was incomplete.

And so was my folding.

I had only learned how to fold T-shirts… and look how well that had turned out! My trousers were stuffed in the drawer, my shirts, my socks, my boxer shorts… and who knew what I was supposed to do with those 3 strangely coloured ties that I kept but never wore!

My clothes folding was still in its infancy. And it was impossible to keep it up when my life was incomplete.

But then, along came Marie Kondo. She taught me that all clothes can be folded, not just T-shirts. Sure, it’ll take you 20 minutes to fold one pair of socks (not like the quick T-shirt folding technique I’d learned) but this was better, apparently. You took the time to really fold your clothes and your problems disappeared one crease at a time.

So I started folding socks, then cramming them in rows in my drawer. Then trousers. Then jumpers.

My drawers weren’t as neat as Marie Kondo’s, sure, but I’m still a mess. My life is not as clean, clear and cash-filled as hers is. But at least I could find a suitable T-shirt in under 20 seconds. They no longer jumped out to meet me when I opened the drawer.

Folding clothes has changed my life. It shows that I am a real person, with abilities and capabilities. Before I folded my clothes, I might as well have been dead. Now, I want my badly folded socks to be crammed into the coffin right next to me when I die.

My socks are a sign of my personality. How I folded my socks will be a sign of how I lived.

If you are one of those sad people who doesn’t fold your socks, then you have no personality… just like I used to have no personality. Your crumpled T-shirts are a sign of a tortured soul.

Do yourself a favour, start folding your clothes.

Once you’ve mastered clothes, you can move onto bed clothes. I have yet to reach those dizzying heights of self-achievement. My bed is still a mess. That’s why I’m so disappointing in bed. If my sheets were well-pressed, I would be like Casanova. He always had well-folded bed linen… he had servants.

Together we can become better people, one crease of fabric at a time.

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