Clare Teal: Coming clean about a love of clutter and hoarding

We must be getting on for 2,000-plus and that’s not including the four big boxes I packed away last year.

I’m not complaining; I love being surrounded by the likes of Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan and Elbow while I work. My problem today, however, is that I need to clean said study and, frankly, it’s not going well.

Not only was I born with a crippling inability to throw away anything, I also suffer terribly from dust blindness.

I must admit being oblivious to mess, and clutter doesn’t bother me in the slightest, but it drives Muddy to distraction. Hence I am up here, but every time I pick up a CD or an instrument or a piece of music, I have an overwhelming desire to play it. At this rate, I’ll be here till Christmas… 2025.

The reason for this painful procedure is that a couple of chaps from one of the Sunday papers are coming round to take pictures of our home for a property feature.

The rest of the flat looks absolutely immaculate but then it always does as Muddy, fortunately, suffers from a cruel affliction called obsessive tidiness – it affects everyone in the family and, as far as I know, there’s, sadly, no cure.

Joking aside, she has a fantastic flair for interior design. A multitude of different styles all sit together happily.

I came in the other month to find her fitting a tiara to and painting lipstick on the Grecian statue that sits on the mantle piece. It’s that sense of humour that makes Mud’s style unique.

This is the second time we’ve been in this situation. Last time, everything about the flat that we loved just didn’t seem good enough; so much so that we went out and pretty much bought “new everything”, much to the bemusement of Megan (she of the brown envelopes and knotter of the purse strings).

This time round we’ve been banned from any further additions and so have settled for intense polishing instead. Even Fluffy the rescue fish has been pimped.