How Marie Kondo Is Really Cleaning Up (at the Bank)

(Bloomberg Businessweek) -- On a cold January afternoon in Manhattan, Riley Soloner was visiting the Upper East Side outpost of the Container Store, a retailer that specializes in goods to help customers better organize the messes of modern life. Soloner was searching for a new laundry hamper because his old one no longer brought him joy. For many, that wouldn’t be adequate reason to consign it to the trash heap. But for adherents of Japanese home organization guru Marie Kondo—including Soloner, 30, who has watched her popular show on Netflix and read her best-selling books—even a mundane hamper is expected to bring happiness to its owner or be discarded. “I’m getting a high and mighty feeling over people [who are] just doing this now,” says Soloner, who is on his second round of winnowing down the possessions in his home.

Kondo, Japan’s reigning queen of tidiness, wants to save the millions of people like Soloner from clutter—and perhaps clean up financially along the way. The home organizing consultant is riding a huge media wave thanks to the success of her Netflix show, Tidying Up With Marie Kondo, which made its debut on Jan. 1. Her decluttering method, in which personal possessions are tossed or retained depending on whether they “spark joy,” is catching on with Americans oppressed by way too much stuff.

The show’s premise is simple: Kondo visits families across the U.S. to bring order to their homes and thereby their lives, item by item. As families go through their clutter, they’re told to thank and say goodbye to the things that no longer bring joy. What’s ensued has been nothing short of a cultural moment, as viewers become devotees. They’re flooding social media with photos of items stored in neat rows and containers, engaging in debates over whether things such as books should be tossed, and creating memes that poke fun at Kondo’s consumerist minimalism.

Netflix has another likely hit on its hands, and there’s been a noted uptick in social media chatter about home organization in the U.S. Meanwhile, as people say goodbye to their no-longer-wanted items, Goodwill and Salvation Army stores have reported higher donations than usual for January.

Although analysts say the long-term impact for retailers from the decluttering mania is uncertain, the Kondo craze reflects the rising movement of mindful consumption. “There might be a handful of players that benefit in the short term,” says Mary Brett Whitfield of retail consultancy Kantar Consulting. “But I do think the trend does tie into many long-term trends we’ve seen from shoppers—to simplify, streamline.”

Kondo’s less-is-more ethos coexists with a shrewd business sense. Her KonMari Media Inc., of which she is the founder and chief visionary officer, is expanding as well with sales of her trademarked KonMari method through a network of certified consultants around the world. Her two books, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy, have been published in 42 countries, and the first one has been on the New York Times best-seller list for almost 150 weeks.

Kondo is a bigger celebrity in the U.S. than in Japan, where she had some buzz when her first book came out in 2010 and then became known for being famous in America. “In the U.S., it’s become a how-to for self-realization,” says Satoko Suzuki, a marketing professor at Hitotsubashi University in Tokyo. “It’s not about cleaning up—cleaning up is just a tool to help yourself, understand yourself, and develop yourself. Whereas in Japan it’s really about cleaning up—the process.”

The idea behind Kondo’s method is the Japanese decluttering concept of danshari—the term is written using the Chinese characters for “refuse,” “dispose,” and “separate.” Although Kondo drew from a common principle, she deserves credit for turning it into a high- concept and then successfully making a business out of it, Suzuki says.

Apart from her books and television series, Kondo makes money from schooling others in the ways of KonMari, who then spread her advice around the world. Anyone aspiring to become a tidying consultant must first read her books and then submit photographs of their own home that has been made immaculate according to the KonMari method. They also must pay for training, which consultants say can cost up to $2,700, and an annual $500 fee to maintain certification.

Interest in the qualification is keen: Upcoming seminars in New York and London are sold out, according to Kondo’s website. In Australia, KonMari consultant Gemma Quinn says the Netflix show has bolstered interest in her services. Quinn, who previously worked in advertising, says she’s able to make a living from the organizing role and is “platinum” certified, which requires having had at least 300 consultations with 30 clients.

Kondo’s popularity has also sparked controversy. Her advice on getting rid of printed books drew heated discussion among authors on social media, with some saying it evoked dystopian notions of mind control. Kondo has since said her suggestion to have no more than 30 books was influenced by Japan’s small homes with little space for bookshelves and its humid climate that leads to mildew.

All but three of the 217 consultants listed on the KonMari English-language website, from Venezuela to Beijing, appear to be women. That reflects the reality of housework in Japan, where a government survey showed that in 2016 men did 19 minutes’ worth a day, compared with 2 hours and 24 minutes for women. “I wish her well as an individual, while I also recognize that she is not fundamentally changing ideas about how women in general should participate in society and the workforce,” says Chelsea Schieder, associate professor at Aoyama Gakuin University.

The rise of Kondo is a win for Netflix’s focus on developing local-language and cross-border shows. Analysts estimate that no single Asian market has surpassed 2 million customers for the streaming service, compared with 58.5 million in the U.S. as of Dec. 31. Still, the streaming company is pushing forward with Asian content and has more than 100 projects in production in the region. Netflix couldn’t be reached for comment. But in its 2018 earnings release, the company said that Netflix originals, such as Tidying Up With Marie Kondo, now account for a majority of total unscripted view share on Netflix, while viewing of all unscripted programming increased meaningfully last year.

“You’d get laughed out of your career at a Hollywood studio if you proposed a KonMari show in Japanese and English 10 years ago,” says Larry Mahl, the former head of acquisitions for Sony Pictures Entertainment Japan. “Netflix is changing the face of what’s possible.”

Other Netflix hits with a connection to Japan include Terrace House, a reality-TV show about the careers and love interests of a group of twentysomethings living together in Japan, which is produced with local broadcaster Fuji TV. In January, one of Netflix’s biggest hits, Queer Eye, announced it would film four episodes in Japan. Netflix also has in development five anime series, a genre that has its roots in the island nation.

Meanwhile, Kondo’s approach is likely to continue reaping financial results as Americans find comfort in her teachings. “What we’re seeing reflected in what she’s saying is we can’t control the big things like the government shutdown or markets,” says Wendy Liebmann, chief executive officer of consultancy WSL Strategic Retail. “But we can control the little things—where we buy, what we buy, and how chaotic our life is.” —With Lucas Shaw