What moving across the continent taught me
I could wrap this post up with one word: being ruthless with your possessions pays off. Literally. Although it's not that simple nor straightforward.
Let's start from the very beginning.
Just over fifteen years ago, I moved to London (perhaps it’s worth mentioning that at the time, I didn’t know I was moving to London, but that’s a story for another day). The plane was boarding at Luton Airport, and I had only a 70-litre rucksack and a small cabin-sized backpack with me. My starter kit to begin a new life in a new country (although at the time the plan was to have a six-month 'workation' in order to get an actual vacation in Southeast Asia).
Time flew, and as I was settling in, various household and decorative items just drifted towards me, such as blue cushions that I still happen to have (!), because they never lost their bounciness, then a mid-century coffee table (still got it!) and even a photograph of an old man that I found in my then-home (then a squat; previously it was a nursing home). I no longer have it, though.
To be fair, given that for my first three years I was squatting, it was justified to acquire my own pillows and some limited furniture, such as the table I mentioned (you can study at it, eat, work, and place it in the centre of the house party!). Then the moment came when I finally moved to a bare studio flat, and I mean really bare, in the sense that it had no flooring, just a concrete floor. Naturally, the neighbour downstairs complained (a lot!) about all the noise I was making, but hey, shuffling your feet in slippers and all normal, habitual noises might sound exacerbated when your flat is empty and completely uninsulated. So, fair dues to that lady who kept complaining about me. Then IKEA in Wembley came to the rescue: rugs, followed by the Kallax bookcase, HOL storage table, and ginkgo leaves fabric handmade curtains (still have them!).
Then, after just over a year, that flat ended, and the new studio flat was not only way smaller but also way more expensive. That double conundrum gave me a push to get rid of some furniture and thus contribute to the high rent. Five years after that cramped studio, I had managed to upgrade most of my furniture to more respectable John Lewis and Made.com (RIP) pieces. It was at this point that I decided to move to Prague (still not there, and yet again, a story for another time...).
I gave myself two months to downsize on clothes and furniture and used the FB marketplace and eBay to diminish my stock, as well as use revenue from selling towards the move. I spent days deciding what to keep, sell, or donate. I went cupboard by cupboard, cardboard box by cardboard box, and basket by basket (oh yeah, I forgot to say how much I love "the basketology approach" in designing an interior – you can never have too many baskets, as someone once said). At the time, I thought that I did a really good job packing cheap Argos frying pans, stainless steel IKEA cutlery, and even cheap metal strainers, because hey, I would be moving to Prague in six months and would need those kitchen items in my new home, anyway, right?
My favourite stuff I ended up moving from London to Poland was (in no particular order), however, a thermal bag full of opened toiletries, an opened box of cheap PG Tips tea, and dried lavender! Item by item, these nonsensical 'must-keep' things, one box after another, added up to a few boxes. In the end, I had sixteen boxes, a thermal bag, and an arch lamp with a 20 kg marble base (and five more desk lamps in another box!), two coffee tables, one futon bed, and my favourite, a massive rattan chest of drawers, plus a box with plants. That was mental. Who’s crazy enough to even try to move plants in a dark cardboard box for 24 hours in transit? Well, obviously, me, but guess what? They not only survived but also prospered on my mum’s balcony during the summer.
Now, over two and a half years later, I am still not in Prague. I somehow linger between London and Poland (I’m in geographical flux, we could say), and whenever I visit Poland, I still deal with the leftovers of that unfinished move. It has turned into an ongoing downsizing project where I come up first with a way of keeping my possessions neat and labelled in transparent boxes, then removing the content and going through stuff again and again in an effort to get rid of as much as possible before I move everything to Prague. I call it slow shedding. Part of it is another method I invented by listing my items on various platforms, with the ‘if it sells, so be it. If it doesn’t, it’s a keeper’ approach.
It probably takes more time and energy to do this the shedding way, but I am not really a radical, '50% stays, 50% must go' hardline downsizer.
So, what this move really taught me could be summed up as:
Take your time by starting to sort and sell as soon as you have a date for the move.
Aim for a final reduction of one-third of your whole stock.
Leave inexpensive IKEA and similar stuff behind by donating them to charity shops or selling them.
Anything opened stays behind.
Only move furniture that you truly enjoy and value. IKEA covers most of the world, and you can get the same white LACK table anywhere, including sourcing it from second-hand shops and platforms.
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