It took me years to accept that I am, undeniably, a messy person. Regardless of how big my space is or who I share it with, keeping my home neat and tidy has always been a struggle. Despite having a home that’s clean, in the hygienic sense, and decorated with great care and intention, I’ve never quite been able to summon the energy to make my bed every morning, consistently pick my pajamas up off the bathroom floor, or do my dishes every single night. For most of my life I’ve fought against these messy tendencies, but now, I’ve grown to embrace them. Just as often as my home is perfectly organized, it’s in a complete state of disarray — and I’m slowly becoming okay with that.
I love my home most when it’s filled with my favorite people. In a dream world, my place is somewhere friends meet to do nothing, picking over whatever’s in the fridge, playing a movie in the background while we chat or nap on the couch, and sometimes decide to stay the night when the trip home feels too arduous. Despite my love of hosting, I always find myself extremely stressed before having guests over — even more so when friends unexpectedly pop by — because I feel obliged to tidy away all signs of my messy lifestyle. But now, after years of failed attempts to change my ways, I’ve concluded the only way forward is to find comfort in the joy that is a slightly disheveled home.
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I believe there is an intimacy to be found in mess: a dog-eared magazine lying open on a coffee table, an empty bottle of wine left on a kitchen counter, an uncapped skincare product sitting on the edge of the bathroom sink. For every item left out of place, there is a thread of connection waiting to be found. To me, this intimacy is what makes visiting a friend’s home, as opposed to meeting them in a bar or restaurant, so special. But when the reality of our lives have been tidied away before arrival, it’s easy for those meaningful threads to be lost.
Celebrity and influencer home tours are often presented as “revealing”, “unexpected” or, in the case of Emma Chamberlin’s viral Architectural Digest tour, “deeply personal.” As thrilling it is to know which celebrities have a $7,000 polished brass bathtub and see million-dollar homes styled without a single object out of place, I can’t help but imagine how much more exciting it would be to see these homes with something, anything, slightly ajar, like their bedroom after they’ve spent an hour deciding what to wear or their kitchen after they’ve hosted a group of celebrity friends for dinner. I apply the same level of intrigue to my own friends.
To me, the most meaningful home compliment I can give or receive has got to be: “Your place feels so homey.” Of course, soft cushions, warm lighting, and good heating all contribute to feelings of hominess as soon as you step over the threshold, but mostly it’s the feeling that a home is inviting you to be yourself, to slouch, to curl, to pull a book off the shelf and flick through its pages without fear. There is a sense of comfort and closeness that I only feel when I arrive at a friend’s house and see their mess.
For every person who lives in a constant state of tidy (I know they exist and I have nothing but respect for them) there’s got to be someone else like me, whose home is a little scrappy, unkempt at times, but, most importantly, lived in. If that’s you, consider this your sign to let go and welcome people into the home you really exist in — not the one you’ve spent a frenzied two hours cleaning before their arrival.