Choosing the discipline of letting go over the constant creation of new storage space

No new hangers. The thought first occurred to me soon after I moved house late last year. While unpacking, I noticed that nearly a dozen of my hangers had rusted. Mumbai humidity has a way of quietly claiming everything. My first instinct was to order new hangers, but then, I glanced at the clothes already hanging in the closet. I gave away a dozen clothes instead.

Since then, no new hangers has become a principle I’m trying to apply to other areas of material ownership. No buying more things if there isn’t space for them, and more importantly, no creating new storage space just to accommodate more stuff. In a city like Mumbai, where homes are crunched and storage space is a luxury, this rule reinforces a truth we already know but often forget: we don’t need so much stuff in life.

In December 2024, I fad-bought an air fryer. It was used four-five times over the next year. When I realised I needed space for crockery, I briefly considered building another cabinet. Last week, I gave the air fryer away instead.

Books have been the toughest category to apply this principle to because parting with them is never just about the book. It’s also about letting go of the tangible memory of who you were when you first read them. I don’t give them away mindlessly. I pass each one on to someone who will appreciate it. I justify giving a dog-eared copy, too: if all art is about seeing the world through someone else’s gaze, then this becomes a matryoshka of gazes layered into one reading experience.

There’s enough research to support this behaviour. A 2018 peer-reviewed piece in Psychology Today, an international publication on mental health and behavioural science, found that decluttering “reduces anxiety, creates a sense of confidence and self-efficacy, allows mind wandering, and often (helps one) find lost treasures”. There’s ample data linking decluttering to a smaller carbon footprint and more sustainable living. But the neurological or ecological benefits are not why I’m doing this.

For me, it’s about being intentional with what you let into your home, and therefore your life. About recognising the difference between what one needs and what is merely nice to have, and how much space—physical and mental—one must allow the latter to occupy. When I was discussing this new life mantra with the Lounge team, a colleague mentioned that her friend had stopped accepting birthday gifts altogether to avoid clutter.

Incidentally, this rule stands in contrast to another popular catchphrase of our time: No new friends. The phrase entered the mainstream nearly a decade ago after DJ Khaled and rapper Drake used it as a refrain in their 2013 song by the same title. It is used to convey emotional self-preservation; choosing to tend to existing relationships in recognition of limited bandwidth to cultivate new ones. While I’m careful about what I accumulate materially, I’ve realised that I’m far more open to letting new people into my life. Perhaps “no new hangers” isn’t just about resisting excess, it’s about making room so that the heart can feel full.