THE Great Singapore Sale is upon us and, like many other Singaporeans, I have been out in the shops on the weekend bargain-hunting.
This year has been slightly different for me because I've spent most of my time in furniture showrooms.
My apartment is now more than five years old and is showing signs of having been lived in by a person who is best described as a chronic 'accumulator'.
'Yes, you definitely have a storeroom vibe going here,' was the dry comment of a close friend who recently stopped by my place.
'Do some life laundry for goodness sake, or else get some more storage area.'
I've never been one to throw things out, so the former option is unthinkable.
In any case, I'm drawn to homes that manage to pull off the look of cultivated clutter. I imagine guests coming round to chat, and peering curiously at the CDs, DVDs, books and other knick-knacks I display on my wall-to-ceiling shelves.
Getting more storage space is a better idea, but the problem is that I have no space left in a studio apartment that is only 62.9 sq m in size. To make way for new furniture, I have to throw out some of the old.
'Get rid of your dining table!' said another friend.
My dining table? But everyone needs a dining table, I said somewhat incredulously.
'Not you,' she replied. 'Your dining table serves only one function - it's where you put your mail.'
THIS is the second time I've been told to throw out my dining table which, with the chairs, takes up 3.2 sq m of space.
The first time, I simply dismissed the suggestion. Now I'm seriously thinking about it.
When I first bought the table (a lovely piece in wenge from The Life Shop), I had visions of nice sit-down dinners with my friends, talking and laughing into the night.
The reality is that I have not had a single dinner like that in all the years I have lived in my apartment.
For starters, I don't cook. And my friends and I are far more comfortable anyway eating around the coffee table from takeaway containers in front of the TV.
Even now, as I cast a weary eye at what's actually on my dining table (other than a layer of dust), I find that my friends are absolutely spot on.
There is this week's mail, of course, and the usual stacks of CDs and DVDs. But there is also a set of new bedlinen I bought from Robinsons and an old faulty Panasonic DVD player I've been meaning to throw out for several weeks now.
(Oh, and there's laundry drying on the chairs too.)
All this could just mean that I live like a slob, but it also underscores the fact that however pretty and 'correct for the home' a piece of furniture is, it's ultimately meant to serve a function.
And if that function doesn't figure in the lifestyle that you lead, then you are better off without it.
That principle served one of my colleagues well when she bought her first apartment and decided not to install a cooker or stove of any sort.
'My friends and family were aghast,' she told me. 'A girl, with no stove?'
But her hunch turned out to be right - she never found a single reason in the next six years to light a fire in her kitchen.
A more extreme example is a friend of a friend who is a dance instructor. When he bought his three-room HDB flat, he tore down all the walls and installed wood flooring and mirrors all over.
He has no sofa and no dining table in the dance studio that doubles as his home. His only concessions to furniture are a foldaway mattress for a bed and a small worktable, on which a computer sits.
That sort of discipline is becoming more important as Singapore becomes more urban and living spaces shrink, especially in the city.
Earlier this week, there was news of what is possibly the smallest condo unit ever launched in Singapore.
At just 28.9 sq m, the tiny apartment is the size of half a squash court, or two Old Chang Kee kiosks put together.
The existence of such a unit - and its price tag (almost half a million dollars) - shocked many people more accustomed to traditional notions of what a home should look and feel like.
But it also suggests that many of these traditional notions are hopelessly outdated in today's modern and diverse society.
When we were young, girls played with dollhouses that had picture-perfect living and dining areas, bedrooms and kitchens.
And many TV sitcoms and dramas still depict wholesome multi-generational families whose activities centre on all-important meals at the dining table.
In Singapore, many people still aspire to such lives and indeed live them every day.
But there are also many others who have subscribed to alternative modes of living. Some have done so because of the choices they made in life, like eschewing marriage or having children.
Others, like the growing army of aged Singaporeans living alone, are forced by circumstance.
I've learnt the hard way that furniture can't change the way you live, no matter how ideal it looks in a home decor magazine, or an imagined life.
And the so-called 'rules' of nesting are slightly bogus anyway, and can definitely change with time.
When I moved in, I made the rather unusual decision to put my fridge in my living room. It raised some eyebrows with my guests, but I was recently told that this was quite common in the 1970s.
I do it because my fridge tends to be filled with things that I am more likely to need when I'm watching TV (like drinks and snacks).
But back then, people did it because fridges were something of a status symbol to be proudly put on display, not hidden away in a kitchen.
When it comes to setting up house, it looks like smaller spaces are here to stay. But it doesn't mean that we shouldn't mentally break out of them.
This article was first published in The Sunday Times on Jun 8, 2008
