Before Marie Kondo grabbed the world's attention with her advice to get rid of things that “didn't bring happiness,” there was another Japanese decluttering guru.
Her name is Hideko Yamashita. And although Ms. Yamashita, 70, has never reached the level of Ms. – him.”
The two women, born thirty years apart in Tokyo, both preach the idea that homes accumulate too much stuff. They argue that getting rid of unnecessary things and creating smaller, cleaner spaces can improve mental well-being.
Ms. Yamashita said she praised Ms. Kondo, 40, for taking these ideas to Western countries. Ms. Kondo's spokesperson admitted in a statement that Ms. Yamashita has been a leading organizer for many years, but said Ms. Kondo has developed her own philosophies.
More than twenty years ago, Ms. Yamashita began giving seminars in Japan on danshari, the Japanese art of eliminating waste. In 2009, his book “The New Tidying Up Method: Danshari” – published more than a year before Ms. Kondo's “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” hit the shelves – catapulting her to fame.
Ms. Yamashita hosts Japan's most-watched weekly television program, which captures the country's most elite households. He also has a school where he trains students – mostly women, middle-aged and older – on how to become experts in waste disposal.
When doing danshari interviews, Mrs. Yamashita glides around her clients' homes in a one-shoulder style apron with a red belt. With her neatly styled chestnut bob and warm, crooked smile, the septuagenarian exudes energy.
Ms. Yamashita and Ms. Kondo approach decluttering in different ways. In the books of Ms. Kondo and the Netflix series, she offers easy-to-follow strategies for planning, combined with her signature joy and optimism. Keep the things that make you happy and thank those who don't throw them away before throwing them away, he advises.
Ms. Yamashita is vague, philosophical and exploratory — not that approachable, Marie Kondo school reformers argue. When deciding what to keep or let go of, Ms. Yamashita pushes her clients to think about why they cling to certain things, and examine what overindulgence and obsession do to their emotional states.
“To me, danshari is not to neatly collect, organize or throw away things that do not create happiness,” said Ms. Yamashita, scooping out soba noodles in sesame broth at a restaurant in Tokyo. “It's about bringing people back to a state where parting with things feels natural.”
“When people's homes and minds are filled with many things, they start to rot,” he continued. “It's like how you eat and lose weight – it's a normal part of our lives.”
“Danshari is about creating an outlet and returning that flow,” he added.
Ms. Yamashita first encountered danshari during her university years in Tokyo, when she studied yoga and Buddhist teachings that emphasized letting go of attachment. After graduating and moving to Ishikawa Prefecture, west of Tokyo, she began using these principles to clean up her home, which she shared with her husband, son and mother-in-law.
It was as a mother-in-law that she found it difficult to encourage others to disperse. When Ms. Yamashita tried to throw things away, her mother-in-law would rummage through the garbage bags, yelling at her “mottainai” – a Japanese word for regretting waste.
The mother-in-law complained that the house is small. “I wanted to scream, 'You'll have more space if you just throw things away!'” Ms. Yamashita.
In 2005, Mrs. Yamashita, then 50 years old, built another building near his home, which he called the “Danshari Open House.” There, she began teaching her yoga students about the principles of homelessness.
Four years later, Ms. Yamashita published her book— an immediate success that was followed by many others. In total, Ms. Yamashita's books have sold more than seven million copies.
Tomoko Ikari, an associate professor of consumer behavior at Meisei University in Tokyo, said danshari became popular in Japan for a reason: The idea of living simply and avoiding desires is rooted in Buddhist teachings that helped shape Japan.
However, despite the popular image of Japan's clean houses and lifestyles based on Zen minimalist aesthetics, Japan is a land-limited country with a large population in large cities. Most of the houses are small and full of belongings, said Ms. Ikari.
“There were people who knew about danshari, but it was small before Ms. Yamashita's rise,” said Ms. Ikari. “Many years later, what started with Ms.
One day at dawn last fall, Mrs. Yamashita came to consult with the danshari in a small apartment on the eighth floor of a nondescript building in northwest Tokyo. His video crew was on the way to record the moment for his YouTube channel.
Dressed in clean jeans and a crisp white blouse, Ms. Yamashita took a breath and walked down the hall to the main living area, stopping to see the scene in front of him.
Towers of shopping bags, baskets and hampers overflowed with clothes and toys. In one corner, a pile of dusty bottles sat behind bean bag chairs, while a small trampoline lay turned to its side. It was almost nowhere to be seen, buried under an avalanche of old gadgets, picture frames and office supplies.
“Well, this doesn't kiss you, does it?” Mrs. Yamashita remarked, smiling as she turned to Risa Kojima, the apartment owner who was standing wide-eyed in the living room. “Are you willing to make this fresh?” he asked.
Ms Kojima, 41, and her husband, Takashi, both work full-time and have three sons – one a toddler, one in kindergarten and one in primary school. In addition to her day job, Ms. Kojima juggles several side gigs, including photography and event planning. Her husband handles most of the housework and child care.
Ten years after they moved in, the couple's 750-square-meter house had been in chaos for so long that they couldn't really see anything anymore.
Starting in the living room, Mrs. Kojima and her husband began organizing baskets filled with old pens, toys and charging cables. Mrs. Yamashita flew around the room with a signed apron, wiping the scene and asking the couple questions.
One first question – “The comfort of this space and your attachment to these things – what is most important to you? Which one has the most value?” – seems to have grabbed Ms. Kojima, leaving her stranded.
At the end of the five-hour session, as often happens on Ms. Yamashita, Mrs. Kojima had already found the answers.
“You can see that there are many things in the open, but we need to investigate deeply that he has so many things,” said Ms. Yamashita during their cleaning.
“I think my mind is messed up,” replied Ms. Kojima, leaving work and other places. “I have a lot of things that are always crowded in my head,” he said.
Ms. Yamashita pressed: “Obviously no one can see inside your head, but it can be seen, in this space.” Then he pointed to the living room. “Do you see how the challenges you face in your head are reflected here?” he asked.
“I think the problem is that I can't even see when it's too much,” said Ms. Kojima.
During the break between the morning and afternoon sessions, Ms. Yamashita, accompanied by his video crew and Ms. Kojima, walked to a small noodle shop on the street. Sitting at a low table in the corner of the grass-lined restaurant, Ms. Yamashita was happy with Ms. Kojima about how challenging danshari can be.
“In many ways, facing our things is like having to face ourselves,” said Ms. Yamashita. “We all take on a lot of things and it's hard to work to reduce things when it comes to relationships and work.”
He said his aim was to help this working mother of three to know when things are going wrong. “What we do with the things in your house — it's just training,” he said.
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