With strengthening sunlight shining on the domestic squalor left by three lockdowns, who among us isn’t ready to embrace extreme spring cleaning? As it turns out, a portion of the British public has been getting a head start. Sales of cleaning products over the past year have risen thanks to a collective quest to reclaim attics and garden sheds, empty out drawers and purge wardrobes.
Some have even reaped rewards rather more substantial than simply being able to open that cupboard door without unleashing a torrent of flotsam and jetsam. Consider, for example, the Imperial Chinese wine ewer discovered in Derbyshire. Looking very much like a small teapot, it was brought back from Asia after the Second World War and ended up in a box in the garage. There it might have stayed had lockdown not provided an opportunity for a proper rummage. Or what about the hoard of gold and silver coins, likely buried since the 16th century, unearthed by a family tidying their garden in Hampshire? And then there’s Napoleon’s room key. Found in an old trunk in the Edinburgh home of descendants of super-fan Baroness Holland, it was snagged for her by her son while he was visiting St Helena in 1822, shortly after the emperor’s death.
The key’s discovery was widely reported at the start of this year. A rare light note in a gloomy news cycle, it became a potent reminder that lockdown did confer the occasional silver—or rusted steel, at any rate—lining. Auctioned online by Sotheby’s with an upper estimate of £5,000, it ultimately went for a stonking £81,900. David Macdonald, the senior director and specialist who oversaw the sale, has had photographs of keys landing in his inbox ever since. Many an email, he says, begins: “I’ve been clearing out and I’ve come across this…”
Among his favourite discoveries is a travelling picnic and games compendium that once belonged to the 12th Duke of Hamilton. Tucked in the back of a wardrobe, he presumed it was another old suitcase—but the case “just grew and grew. Legs popped out, and then it unfolded to create this incredible table with all the accoutrements you’d need—salt, pepper, little silver plates. And then it converted again into a chessboard.”
This steady trickle of noteworthy relics—be they quirky mementos or historic artefacts—isn’t just diverting; it also provides reassuring perspective on our present moment. For most of us, clambering up into dusty attics is going to yield belongings bound not for auction houses but for already overwhelmed charity shops. Even so, there are discoveries to be made. A Pret napkin, a train ticket, a receipt from a bar—who’d have thought the ephemera lurking at the bottom of a tote bag could trigger so much wistful longing?
Those flashbacks are a reminder that we could use some sprucing up ourselves, too. I speak for myself, but I suspect for you also. Eyes strained from life online, shoulders hunched from the inadequacies of the ad hoc home office—there’s no denying that the past 12 months have taken their toll on bodies and minds. Nothing symbolises new beginnings quite so intoxicatingly as a good clear out, and there are certainly psychological rewards to be had. For starters, it banishes the “mess stress” that has afflicted over half the population this past year (so found Argos, purveyor of both clutter and storage solutions). And while “tidy house, tidy mind” is an over-simplification, disarray has nevertheless been found to produce high levels of the stress hormone cortisol. It’s even been linked to disrupted sleep.
Straightening out the living room may confer an alleviating sense of control, but when we’re finally able to relax enough to sort through the mental muddle caused by the past year, I wonder what else we might find among the anxiety and the burnout. Is it too much to hope for bygone treasures like fortitude and patience?
In the meantime, it’s worth remembering that lockdown decluttering has also yielded another kind of discovery: last year, Ministry of Defence bomb disposal units responded to over 2,700 reported discoveries of Second World War explosives—that’s 20 per cent more call outs than in 2019. Just something to consider before you go ferreting about too eagerly, whether it’s at the bottom of the garden, up in the loft, or in your own lockdown-addled psyche.
