Shop, save, or suffocate?
We live in a very materialistic world. That is not necessarily a bad thing until of course you tip into hoarding. With everything now just a click away, shopping has never been easier. You do not even need to step into a mall. Add to cart, pay now, and wait for the doorbell. It is progress, yes. Technology has made life infinitely more convenient.
But with such ease comes responsibility. Self-control becomes a modern virtue. The willpower to pause and ask, “Do I really need another winter coat?” is harder than it sounds.
Recently, this reflection took on a deeply personal turn. My dad passed away two months ago and my family and I are now going through his belongings. We always knew that he was a hoarder but we did not realize the extent until we opened his cabinets. Twenty unopened bottles of perfume. Fifty pairs of socks. Three dozen still price-tagged shirts. Around 40 blankets and towels.
The numbers were staggering and they left me wondering: Why do people hoard?
Why we hoard
Psychologists point to a range of reasons: emotional attachment, fear of loss, difficulty making decisions, coping with difficult feelings, or even seeking control and safety. Seniors in particular may collect excessively because possessions offer a sense of comfort and familiarity in the face of aging and uncertainty. Hoarding becomes a coping mechanism.
The problem is, there is really no good reason to hoard. It is expensive. It consumes space. It breeds disorganization and in worse cases, health hazards such as mold, dust, and pests. The irony, however, is that my dad was an organized hoarder. His shirts were neatly lined up, perfumes arranged like a department store display, towels stacked in perfect piles. I suspect for him, hoarding was less about chaos and more about control, his way of holding on to youth, memories, and order in a world that was constantly changing.
This is where the world of hoarding collides with the gospel of Marie Kondo. Her famous question, “Does it spark joy?” is a direct challenge to our habits of accumulation. She urges us to let go of what no longer serves us and fold clothes into neat little rectangles that look like origami in our drawers. While Dad’s closets would never pass a Kondo inspection, I wonder if his perfumes and socks did spark joy for him in a quiet way. Perhaps hoarding, for him, was his own version of sparking joy, just multiplied by 50.
And yet, Kondo feels almost outdated now. Her minimalist movement had its moment, but the world has roared back with its love affair for acquisition. People buy, collect, and stash things even if they do not spark joy. Sometimes they just spark a discount, a trend, or the thrill of delivery day.
I remember when headlines once centered on Imelda Marcos and her 3,000 pairs of shoes, a symbol of extravagance that shocked the world. Decades later, excess has only taken on new forms. Influencers such as Jamie Chua from Singapore proudly showcase closets lined with luxury bags. An infamous couple makes the news for a garage filled with 40 cars despite having only five members. And at the far extreme, Prince of Brunei Hassanal Bolkiah reportedly owns around 7,000 cars, a staggering monument to indulgence.
But at what point does collecting tip into hoarding, and when does it simply become greed?
Collector vs. hoarder vs. shopaholic
This brings me to a broader question: Is being a shopaholic the same as being a hoarder? And what about collectors, who also acquire in great numbers? The differences are subtle but important.
Collector: Collectors acquire items deliberately and with purpose. Their purchases are often tied to history, culture, or art, and they typically maintain their collections in a curated, organized way. Think of someone collecting rare stamps, coins, or artworks. The key is intention, order, and appreciation.
Hoarder: Hoarders acquire and keep items regardless of actual need or value, often unable to part with them. Possessions accumulate to the point of overwhelming living spaces, and the thought of discarding anything causes distress. Hoarding is less about joy and more about compulsion and control.
Shopaholic: Shopaholics are driven by the act of acquisition itself. The thrill lies in buying, not necessarily in keeping. They may discard, give away, or quickly tire of their purchases, but the cycle of compulsive spending continues. Financial strain is often the biggest red flag.
Perhaps the real distinction lies not in how much you own, but in whether your things end up owning you.
My own realization
As I slowly move into my dad’s room, I am shocked at how many of my own things are now scattered along the hallway. I am overwhelmed by the mountain of organization I have to do for this transition.
And the question did cross my mind: Am I a hoarder, too?
At the end of the day, I realize that I am not. I have acquired a lot of things, but they are organized and are enjoyed by my girls and me. I believe that is the ultimate answer. If you use it, enjoy it, and appreciate it, then you take yourself out of that category.
Kondo says we should thank the items that no longer serve us before letting them go. And maybe we should. But in today’s world, where people continue to shop even when joy is nowhere in sight, perhaps the wiser question is not “Does it spark joy?” but “Do I really need this at all?”
And if one day my daughters discover 40 pairs of identical black pants in my closet, I hope they know that it is not hoarding. It is simply called having a uniform.
