I’ll be honest, when you walk into my (tiny, suburban) cottage, the first thing that strikes you isn’t, ‘Wow, look at this stark minimalist paradise!’ or even ‘Where are all the things?’ and certainly not ‘What do you mean they have a toddler?!’ Yet I am now a certifiable decluttering freak, having recently got rid of around 65 per cent of my possessions.

The reason is Marie Kondo’s blockbusting book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying. You may have heard of it. You may even have bought it (‘The Japanese sensation – 3 million copies sold’).

And if you read it, you will definitely have fantasised about how ‘tidying increases good fortune… and dramatically transforms our lives’. And then, as with all good self-help books, you probably wedged it back on your (overcrowded) bookshelf.

Not me. I actually did it. And let me tell you, it took me a whole freaking year of stress, confusion, humiliation, heavy lifting and bloody-minded determination.

A photo posted by Marie "KonMari" Kondo (@konmari_method) on Aug 10, 2015 at 1:28pm PDT

On reading the book, I was an instant convert. Trapped at home with a toddler and feeling OCD about my environment, I was entranced by Marie’s promise that ‘putting [your] house in order positively affects all other aspects of [your] life.’

I was seduced by her ‘KonMari’ method, with its geometrically folded, vertically stored clothes that allow you to see everything you own at a glance. I wanted less stuff to maintain and wade through; or as the author puts it, ‘to be surrounded [only] by things that bring joy.’ I started on 1 January 2015 and never looked back.

Next week, Marie releases a new book, Spark Joy: An Illustrated Guide to the Japanese Art of Tidying, which will no doubt recruit a whole new contingent of disciples.

One of her strictures is that you complete the clutter banishment in one hit, ‘one category at a time!’ But Marie, 30, is an ‘expert declutterer and professional cleaner’ and also something of an obsessive who won’t ball her socks in pairs because they need to ‘rest’.

By contrast, I am a mother with a chaotic work-life balance and no car; and I’m married to a graphic designer/artist who cannot throw anything away and thinks it appropriate to display, say, luxury bath-product packaging on our bookshelves because it is ‘inspirational’.

But I made it work. And if you’re intrigued enough to give it a try, let me give you some idea of what may be in store for you over the next 12 months (and counting).

"It’s way better to be a buyer than a seller of second-hand designer goods"

The first category Marie suggests you tackle is your clothes. My high-end clothing went to VestiaireCollective.com (a site dedicated to pre-owned designer fashion), who sold it all for me. For high street and baby stuff, I used a local eBay seller I found on Facebook, who took 25 per cent of the profits. Vestiaire’s rejects went to various designer consignment shops.

Result: instant decluttering, with payments coming in throughout the year. (Ah, those big bucks ‘fashion investment’ pieces. When you sell that designer item you ate beans on toast for a month to afford, the proceeds will be so pitiful it will take your breath away. This has made me realise that it’s way better to be a buyer than a seller of second-hand designer goods.)

For motivation and momentum, you must, must find a friend to brag of your progress to. Bear in mind this can’t be your partner, as they will only ever reply ‘you got rid of what?’ (as Kondo warns ominously, ‘don’t let your family see’).

For this honorary position I selected my BFF Ann, who has twin boys the same age as my daughter and a basement awash with outgrown clothing and baby equipment.

Nothing pleased me more than texting Ann on my regular Saturday morning walks back from the charity shop, ‘Five bags today, yay me!’

A KonMari-ed drawer - with the requisite vertical stacking system

Also key: start operating a ‘one in, one out’ policy. This is the best way to stay focused and stop acquisition creep. Do you love it enough to get rid of the existing one? Then you don’t need it. I now own just six T-shirts, and it’s staying that way.

Previously, tidying up resembled some kind of dramatic rescue at sea. Now we can tidy so fast. Everything has a place and there are so few things they now actually fit. Imagine! When you don’t have so much stuff, you also quickly notice what’s not there, so losing things becomes pretty much impossible (which is just as well, because you really need what’s left).

Another lesson? It’s amazing what you can live without. We had a brief visit from a rat and ended up (somewhat gleefully) jettisoning two cupboards of rarely used kitchen equipment and serving dishes, guilt-free, straight to the tip.

"Previously, tidying up resembled some kind of dramatic rescue at sea. Now we can tidy so fast. Everything has a place and there are so few things they now actually fit. Imagine!"

Post rat-gate, we realised what we wouldn’t be replacing: our toaster (we just use the grill now, no biggie), and our kettle (our coffee machine can also dispense clean boiling water for tea). Boom – beautiful, empty worktops.

Meanwhile, we now own just one saucepan (with a built-in strainer lid) and a frying pan. And you know what? We do just fine. We now have nothing in our loft. Nothing. Well, apart from the (minimum required) five years of tax receipts and a box of (heavily edited) Christmas decorations. This time last year, the loft was stuffed with maybe 25 giant laundry bags of clothes.

We also have no junk drawer – really. The top drawer in our kitchen contains neat little boxes of bag clips, coffee pods, batteries and a few toddler-unfriendly sharp things. And that’s it. We don’t even have a jumbled collection of unknown cords – all binned. Each gadget has its cord stored in its case. And yes, this all pleases me immensely. One day in August I looked around and realised we were Getting There.

I was starting to struggle to think of what to chuck out next. I felt like someone living in a glossy interiors magazine shoot, wondering idly, ‘Have I tired of this wooden spoon?’ Or as Kondo’s catchphrase goes, ‘Does this object spark joy?’ And it gets easier.

The less you have, the easier it is to see the jarring items that haven’t been used for years or that no longer please you. While we tried to sell as much as possible, we gave an old pram to a charity for local mothers and after they told me about the family receiving it, I had pretty much the same glow as I had after giving birth.

I donated a ton of old bras to Oxfam, which sends them on for women to sell in Senegal. And many charities, including the British Heart Foundation, will even collect heavier donations like furniture; double win. Giving things away, it turns out, is infinitely preferable to trying to sell them.

Everyone wants a bargain and you will hate them for it. You will list a kids’ clothing bundle for £6 on a local Facebook group and someone will agree to buy it, but then will turn up with ‘just £5 on me’ (and they’ll be wearing Chanel glasses and driving an SUV). Stand firm.

"For our daughter, we now have a ‘one present only’ rule for all family for Christmas and birthdays, an outright soft toy ban (they’re impossible to get rid of, once snuggled)"

For the first six months, my husband’s only contribution to the in-house decluttering programme was to remove things from the ‘out’ pile to ask ‘don’t we need this?’ or worse, replace them.

So imagine my astonishment when one weekend in July he casually mentioned he would be ‘chucking out’ some of his 500-plus items of clothing. Like I said, when there’s not much there you really start to see what is there – especially if it’s all yours.

For our daughter, we now have a ‘one present only’ rule for all family for Christmas and birthdays, an outright soft toy ban (they’re impossible to get rid of, once snuggled), and next year we’ll start requesting more experiences than items (zoo vouchers, panto tickets, swimming lessons).

Tidying guru Marie Kondo

We also have one toy cupboard and everything has to fit in there: one in, one out. Our daughter, who is now two and a half, goes to playgroup and the playground and other people’s houses, so there are plenty of new things to play with. And we never, ever go to toy shops.

The only spending exception: books. We buy a lot and we also get dozens from the library. Gotta have some extravagance somewhere.

Marie decrees that you Set A Deadline And Stick To It. Mine was 31 December. Any unwanted clothing, books etc that were still not sold – or sent to someone to sell – went with me in a cab to the charity shop. Done.

You will have regrets. Apparently at some point I decided I was never going to have time to straighten my hair again. So when I finally found myself getting ready for a Christmas girls’ night out, I was enraged to find no straighteners.

And yes, I really, really regretted it. But you know what? My year of tidying has made me realise that things just aren’t that important. And that is the best lesson of all.

‘Spark Joy: An Illustrated Guide to the Japanese Art of Tidying’ by Marie Kondo (Vermilion, £12.99) is out on 7 January.