How to Host A Declutter Party

Not quite drowning in clutter but still have a few things you'd like to purge? Or maybe you find decluttering more palatable with refreshments? Walsh suggests grabbing two friends for a "party" that will progress to each person's home—thus offering both motivation and fun. To test his plan, he's enlisted OWN staffers (and friends) Cynthia Brown (left), Danielle Jones (right), and Lorraine DeGraffenreidt. Each has reasons for wanting to pare down: Cynthia is shelling out $148 a month for a storage unit, Danielle has too many clothes that no longer fit, and Lorraine, a recent transplant to Los Angeles from New York, suddenly has no use for her heavy outerwear. But with their busy lives and lengthy to-do lists, getting started has always seemed too difficult—which is why the friends need each other.

Designate a Timekeeper: Walsh explains that they'll spend exactly one hour at each person's apartment—or in Cynthia's case, storage unit—during which all phones must be turned off. (Unless, of course, they're being used to snap a picture of an item that's being donated, like the black cap embroidered with the letters UCB that Lorraine has been keeping as a reminder of her former job at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. "I had this idea in my head that people would see it and think, Cool!" she says. "But I've never worn it.")

Focus, Focus: Each friend designates one or two categories of clutter to concentrate on: for Cynthia, bedding, blankets, and towels; for Danielle, professional clothing; and for Lorraine, winter wear. "In other words, we're not here to clean out anyone's entire garage," Walsh clarifies.

Be Brutal: Walsh makes it clear that friends will encourage friends to get rid of anything they don't love, or own duplicates of, or haven't worn or used in the past six months, or find at the bottom of a pile, back of a drawer, or on the floor of a closet. Also: anything from a previous job, life, or relationship that doesn't suit their current one, and anything that is part of an incomplete set (of linens, for example). But he needn't have worried that they'd go easy on each other: Soon the friends are blurting out exactly what they think—and having a great time in the process.

Bring Fuel: "I don't know about you, but decluttering really makes me thirsty," says Walsh, who helpfully suggests Champagne. All business, Lorraine shows up with homemade brownies instead.

"I have a problem letting go," admits Cynthia, who traces her pack-rat tendencies to a painful 1990 divorce. After struggling to get back on her feet, she clung to each hard-won possession as "proof that I was making it," she explains. But as Walsh points out, the thousands of dollars she has spent to store extra linens and clothing isn't exactly liberating—or helping her move forward.

Her Giveaways: When Walsh holds up a large beige blanket, Cynthia defends it as "warm." "But if it's in storage, you're obviously not using it," Walsh says. Cynthia reluctantly agrees that it can go. As for a stack of neutral-colored towels and sheets, "I think of these as money," says Cynthia—but admits she hasn't used most of them since she was married. "Cynthia," gasps Lorraine. "I was 2 years old then!"

Get rid of it for good: Operation Blankets of Love distributes towels and blankets to shelter pets in need of comfort. (operationblanketsoflove.com)

Lorraine, an energetic recent college grad who last year moved cross-country seeking job opportunities (she landed at OWN in September), explains, "I brought winter coats because I heard it does get cold here in winter. But," she adds, holding up a ski parka, "it doesn't get this cold."

Her Giveaways: In addition to outerwear, Walsh takes the liberty of tossing what he calls "an ultrawarm suede hat that I imagine is super-useful in L.A."; also bound for charity is "a scarf from Urban Outfitters that just never happened," says Lorraine, and an L.L.Bean down vest she was saving because it had belonged to a friend's father and had a "lifetime guarantee." ("So why didn't your friend keep it if it was so special?" wonders Cynthia.) When Walsh asks, "Is any of this stuff now?" Danielle and Cynthia shake their heads vigorously. "It's not the L.A. Lorraine, the one we know," says Danielle. "It's boring—and we don't see you like that!" adds Cynthia.

Get rid of it for good: Visit onewarmcoat.org to find a location near you that accepts winter coats.

"Is there anything you all notice about these clothes?" Walsh asks, as the group sizes up Danielle's overstuffed bedroom closet in North Hollywood. "The tags?" asks Lorraine. And indeed, much of Danielle's wardrobe—tailored pants that never quite fit, heels that just look painful—is barely worn.

Her Giveaways: One of the first things to go is a pair of red and black leather calf-high stiletto boots that Lorraine is gawking at: "I remember when pointy-toed shoes were trendy. I don't remember when the rest of that was trendy." Danielle is less willing to part with a "churchy" camel Banana Republic suit (with the tags still on) that she bought while interviewing for jobs in college. "The word you used was churchy," points out Cynthia, gesturing toward the "donate" pile. When Danielle frowns, Lorraine strikes a compromise: "I expect you to wear that to work in the next month, Danielle. If you don't, I'll call you out."

Get rid of it for good: Dress for Success accepts new or nearly new women's work wear. (dressforsuccess.org)

Next: The best way to organize a shared closet