My roommate Amanda, a 26-year-old urban professional with everything going for her, has a problem: she’s a hoarder. Until recently, her closet and dresser were literally brimming with clothes, old and new. Her tendency to hoard made Halloween a breeze. For example, Amanda’s supply of flannel shirts and overalls from her junior-high days in Minneapolis made for great “farmer” costumes. On the other hand, her disorganized bedroom was hard to navigate, so necessities got lost and everyday outfits were difficult to assemble.

Amanda may be a mess, but she’s an amazing sport about it. In me, she couldn’t have a more uptight, order-obsessed roommate. We’ve argued about everything from where to hang coats in our tiny, nearly closet-less New York City apartment to how many pictures we should hang on the refrigerator. Amanda always gives in to my overly organized ways, even though they go against her more free-spirited tendencies. She made the ultimate concession when I suggested a daylong closet cleanup, and she agreed!

Full disclosure: our apartment is small, even by New York City standards. Amanda’s bedroom is narrow, and space is definitely limited, so messes easily accumulate. Because of these tight quarters, the general mindset of most New Yorkers (and the mindset I encouraged Amanda to adopt on this organizational journey) is “keep only what you need.”

We marked our calendars with what I was convinced would be a day of reckoning. On the weeks leading up to the big makeover, Amanda’s boyfriend, Greg, and I gave her pep talks about “letting go” and “only the strong survive.” I was this close to hanging signs on our front door that claimed, “Everything must go,” just like a storefront before it’s shuttered.

The alarm went off early that fateful Saturday; when I met Amanda in the kitchen, the look on her face read, “I’m heading to the gallows.” After a Dunkin’ Donuts run and a strategy session, Amanda put on her game face, and together we dove right in.

Before we could implement our full-on attack, we had some basic straightening to do. Amanda lets her laundry accumulate on the floor by her bed. We spent the first half-hour or so picking up her dirty clothes and putting them into her hamper, which was empty for lack of use. We then freed up some space by moving the hamper to the bathroom so that Amanda might be inclined to fill it regularly. We were off to a good start.

A well-made bed just might be the greatest symbol of tranquility … or at least it’s a good start when cleaning a bedroom. Taking that first step toward order motivates you for the work ahead, and it’s an easy action to check off the list. Amanda’s bed was looking a little ho-hum, so we pumped it up with a bright floral comforter (the underside to her existing one) and some new silk throw pillows. We also situated the bed skirt so that it fell at the floor, concealing the storage drawers hidden beneath the bed.

Since the area surrounding her bed had been so messy up to this point, Amanda rarely reached for the items underneath. When we sorted through those under-bed drawers, it was like finding buried treasure. She came across a beautiful white mohair sweater that still had the tags on it, as well as her favorite sweatshirt, which she thought she had lost long ago. With the good finds came the bad finds: dust bunnies, sweat-stained T-shirts and oversized sweaters from when “baggy” was the trend. We brought in a huge camping duffle and began to fill it with items we intended to donate at the end of the day. Beside the duffle, we placed a large garbage sack for the items that didn’t warrant recycling.

Next up: the dresser. We approached each drawer with an unwavering dedication to the essentials. We cleared out every drawer and took stock. If Amanda had not worn something in a year, it had to go into the “donation duffle.” If an item was not her size or was outdated, goodbye! With what remained, we folded and sorted so that each drawer contained specific contents: undergarments and accessories in the top drawers, jeans and socks below, then shirts and pajamas at the bottom.

I have to give major props to Amanda for the work she did on the surface of her dresser. What started as a jumble of necklaces, lotions, mail, recent purchases, assorted coins (many from other countries, including Canada), an iron and even old film canisters (she uses a digital camera, FYI) emerged gloriously clear. We propped up an inexpensive mirror from Ikea and placed her jewelry box (newly organized with her baubles enclosed) on one side, and a dainty teacup for loose change on the other side. Lotions and perfumes found their way to the bathroom, and most everything else to the trash. We took a well-deserved lunch break at this point.

Greg stopped by to check on the progress and made an astute (if not a tad overwhelming) observation: It always gets worse before it gets better. Understandably, he looked at the crammed duffle and numerous trash bags and wondered what kind of progress we’d made.

Fueled up from lunch and eager to tackle the closet, we ventured back into the bedroom. The doorless closet, overflowing with shoes and clothes hangers, needed a major overhaul. To her credit, Amanda had made an early attempt at neatness when she first moved into this apartment by hanging compartmentalized canvas bags for sweaters and shoes from her closet rod. However, the bags’ usefulness was canceled out by the sheer amount of stuff in them. The shoes stored in the canvas bag had gathered dust after years of non-use. Every inch of the closet rod was jammed.

We emptied the closet and sorted through the clothes, dividing them into four categories: keep, trash, donate, eBay. We used the same standards for judging that we employed with the dresser, getting rid of old or outdated clothing and shoes by the duffle-load. This time we filled a separate bag with auction-able clothing, in particular Amanda’s vast collection of Laura Ashley duds. That’s right, Laura Ashley. Laura Ashley ankle-length floral dresses, waistline not included. These were big in Minnesota in the ’90s, apparently. We were hoping they’re still big somewhere, so we posted them on eBay with a very low reserve and ended up making $40 for the lot. We also sold off some old prom dresses and a black cocktail dress from The Gap. A tip for eBay newbies: most brand names will find a buyer, and simple styles (i.e., little black dress) will sell, but not for much.

Once the sorting was complete, we re-filled the closet with the keepers, grouping clothes by type and color. Now, when Amanda goes looking for her black trousers or navy blazer, she’ll know exactly where to find it. On the shelves, we positioned wicker storage boxes for winter hats and gloves. We also added magazine files. Towels, which used to be stored in a suitcase underneath her bed, were moved to an empty shelf. The suitcase, now empty and ready for Amanda’s next trip, resides in a large nook just above the closet. For the finishing touch, Amanda hung rich brown, velvet-like drapes from Kmart, creating a chic makeshift door to separate the closet from the rest of the bedroom.

At the end of the day, Amanda set aside two duffle bags and five shopping bags filled with clothes to donate to the Salvation Army (see the tally at the right of the page), and threw away four bags of trash. On top of that, all the untapped potential of her bedroom was finally met: the exposed brick walls shone with appeal, and the hardwood floors, clean and clear for the first time, were charming underfoot. What had been masked for years by mountains of laundry and piles of clutter came to life, and Amanda beamed, “I have a new room, and I just want to hang out and rest in here!”

Jennifer Berno recently said goodbye to her roommate and tiny New York City apartment and moved to Birmingham, Ala.