Should I Have a Yard Sale? No.

This is part of Stewie's Guide to Ruthlessly Declutter Your Clothes Today.

Growing up in sunny California, Saturdays in the summer meant one thing: yard sales.

They were everywhere—signs on telephone poles, clusters of cars parked along curbs, makeshift tables lined with old toys, books, and kitchen gadgets. It was a weekly treasure hunt, a chance to dig through other people’s cast-offs and maybe—just maybe—find something special.

For me, it was baseball cards. I’d rifle through stacks of them, hoping to find a rare gem. My Dad? He was always looking for exercise equipment to complete his home gym.

The thrill wasn’t just in the buying; it was in the looking. What will we find today? What amazing deal is just around the corner?

And, naturally, when we had too much stuff cluttering our own house, we’d do what everyone else did.

We’d have a yard sale of our own.

I remember one yard sale in particular. I was about eleven, and we were selling a double bed. A guy with dark hair and a black shirt showed up, interested. He wanted the bed but had to run to the ATM to get cash. My Dad, ever practical, told him we’d hold the bed only if he left a phone number. The man scribbled one down and drove off, promising to return.

We waited. And waited.

After a few hours, my Dad called the number. Someone answered, but the man wasn’t home. My Dad tried again later. “He’s unavailable,” they said.

I don’t remember what we did with that bed, but I do remember my Dad’s frustration. The wasted time. The feeling of being strung along. The irritation of holding onto something we thought was already gone.

Thirty years later, that moment still sticks with me. When I think about all the yard sales we had growing up, and all the ways I’ve tried to simplify my life since then, I’ve come to one conclusion:

Yard sales are not worth the headache.

Here’s how I see it. A successful yard sale devours at least 15 hours of your life. Making signs, putting them up, pricing everything, dragging it all outside, standing around for hours, dealing with no-shows, hauling unsold junk back inside, taking down the signs, and cleaning up afterward.

Is that worth it?

Will you walk away with at least $225 (that’s $15/hr X 15 hours) for all that effort? Or will this just be a low-paying, exhausting side gig on top of everything else you already have to do?

Worse yet, do you enjoy haggling with strangers who think 50 cents is outrageous for a shirt you once loved?

Do you want to waste hours waiting for buyers who promise to come back—but never do?

And here’s the worst part: do you really want to spend months beforehand hoarding bins and boxes of stuff you’ve already decided you don’t want?

This is the opposite of decluttering.

Your home is not a storage unit for junk that other people might want.

What if, instead of dragging out the process, you simply let everything go?

Donate the clothes. Give away the useful items to someone who needs them. Trash the rest.

You could have a clutter-free home today. No bargaining, no waiting, no wasting another Saturday standing in the sun, hoping someone will give you a dollar for a thing you don’t even want anymore.

Because the truth is, once you’ve decided to let something go, the hardest part is already done.

And the sooner it’s gone, the lighter you’ll feel.

Next steps…