Tinsel Takeover

As a professional organizer, I’ve seen my fair share of chaotic corners, but walking into this room felt like I had accidentally stumbled into the North Pole after a holiday blowout. Wrapping paper tubes were leaning like festive little towers, ornaments were rolling free like they’d staged an escape, and wreaths were lounging around as if they'd retired. Some might see this and groan. Me? I rubbed my hands together like I’d just spotted a clearance sale on storage bins.

The first thing I always do is breathe—then sort. I don’t judge the mess, and I don’t expect perfection. I just start grouping things like I’m making new friends at a party. Ornaments here, ribbons there, and a special corner for “What is this?” items. One of my go-to tips is to create quick categories with laundry baskets or cardboard boxes—temporary homes while we figure out their forever ones. Sorting is the calm before the storage storm.

Next up: containment. I’m a bin enthusiast—clear ones, stackable ones, ones with holiday-colored lids if you want to get really fancy. I always suggest labeling them clearly with phrases that make sense to you (no one wants to open “Misc. 2014” ever again). Wrapping paper? I like storing it vertically in a tall wastebasket or a garment bag—no more crumpled snowmen or runaway rolls under the couch.

Now comes my favorite part: giving the space a layout that makes life easier. We don’t need to turn this into a Container Store showroom—we just need a little logic. I always say: high shelves are for low-frequency stuff. If you only touch it once a year, it shouldn’t be blocking the path to your laundry detergent. And if something’s heavy, it goes low—your back will thank you when future-you is hauling out holiday gear.

By the time I step back, the floor is visible again, bins are stacked like cheerful little elves, and the chaos has been downgraded to “charmingly abundant.” Nothing important was tossed, and everything sentimental still has a place—it’s just a lot easier to find now. Honestly, I think this room and I are both breathing easier. And if I hear a rogue jingle bell under the couch next time I visit? I’ll take it as a warm holiday hello.