Creating order: Tips from Barbara and Guido

Those who make ships as passionately clear as Guido and Barbara are, of course, happy to give tips. But don't let the two put you under pressure now.

Barbara: Guido, I would like to briefly summarize what happened when you just came in.

Guido: Okay …

First of all, you pulled out a wet wipe and started cleaning your white sneakers.

Because I stepped on tar. I believe.

The stain was gone quickly, but you didn't stop. And now your sneakers are flashing as if they came straight from the assembly line.

Granted, compared to your …

But then, and that impressed me the most, you started wiping the window frames with the already used but still usable wet wipe. In a photo studio you don't own.

That's right. I have never been here.

Let's not talk around it, Guido: You have a cleaning problem.

Well, I really like it very neat. And I need certain conditions in certain situations. It was like that as a child.

An example from your childhood, please!

Let's say: over supper. My four siblings and my parents were sitting at the table with these terrible boards, of which the crumbs kept falling on the table top. Did not like it. I always had my plate, a champagne glass for my milk, a napkin next to it, and of course I was sitting very straight.

Difficult when you're on the go. You have to take what you get, for example on a plane.

That's true. But be sure: when I return my tray, it looks as if it has not been used. All crumbs removed, the butter lid accurately pasted onto the jar, everything is geared towards twelve o'clock …

Who are you doing this for?

For me. But you know, that also has to do with my job. As a designer, you will perish if you don't prevent any kind of chaos from the start. There are so many clothes flying around, so many fabric samples, haberdashery, notes and pens … I always had the feeling that if there was no order, the shop would go under.

I have a thesis about very orderly people.

And that would be?

Anyone who keeps their outside world tidy is messy in the head. Doesn't apply to you, does it?

No, really not. But I also have a thesis: order is a longing – and one by order. Perhaps order is also the expression of fear of being lost.

Interesting. I can go with that. But also a little further: I don't need order so much, but above all the process of making order. If I came to my apartment, which was completely tidied up by someone else, nothing would be gained for me. I have to do it myself. It's a bit like … well: Christmas.

Why Christmas?

I talked to my neighbor last Christmas. He said to me: I'm in a very bad mood. It turned out that while all the preparations were going on, he was sitting in his study and then came out to give presents. I buy the Christmas tree, decorate it, bake cookies and make the punch …

… and have no problem getting in the mood.

Nope And if we change it to the topic of the day: order is life. But it is not yet clear to me: is your love of order now afraid of being lost?

I rather believe that my inner tidiness needs an equivalent in the outside. When I come home and the heads of the tulips are not upright or when things are not in their place, it irritates me at first. Then my husband Frank says to me: Guido, we lived here while you were gone.

Although the absence itself brings disorder into your life.

Exactly. I totally internalized a dream of a beautiful life, and for me this is above all my home – and the longing for it. When I'm on the road, I always imagine how nice I want it to be at home, and if this perfect picture cannot keep up with reality, it becomes difficult. That's why I always tidy up before I leave the house. I want to come back and have it pretty straight away.

I never understood that with my mother! Before every weekend trip, she brought the picobello house up to scratch. And I always asked myself: why?

And today?

Of course I do it the same way! And I think that has to do with what you just said: my house is the most important place in my life where I spend too little time. But at this time, yes, exactly, I want it to be nice. But there is also a difference between us.

You have children By definition, they wreak havoc.

That too. But I don't mean that. But: In contrast to you, I treat myself to corners where there is absolute chaos.

For example?

In our house in Austria we have a cutlery drawer. I tip the cutlery basket from the dishwasher into it, because everything flies completely unsorted. Admit: You couldn't stand it.

Oh yes. I don't live alone either, and my husband has a different concept of order than I do. I have to go through that, and that's okay. He also accepts that I'm only ever lying on the floor.

You do what?

I like to lie on the floor, that's always been the case. When I visit my parents in Münsterland, my mother still says "Guido, dinner is ready!" and throws me a pillow on the floor.

Fascinating.

Really. This gives me a completely different perspective on the apartment. And their flaw – I can spend entire TV evenings plucking the carpet fringes.

What else?

Oh, I have also spent a lot of time using a cotton swab to fill the gaps in the living room dimmer …

seriously? Cotton swab? We would need a spatula for this. Do you have crinkle corners now? So when I think about what kind of clothes we have in our bedroom …

Oh. Sorry. I can't do that, I have a different connection to clothing. I think clothes have a soul.

But it often happens that things just slip off the bar.

However, especially light parts, silk shirts or something. Which is a sign for me: they need a little attention. I pick it up and say: Oh little mouse. You poor thing.

I've never seen it this way. It kind of touches me right now.

And please keep thinking that. I consider myself a continuous item. This blouse, a piece of furniture, my wardrobe … They will go on walking, changing hands, will be used by future generations. I want to do everything I can to ensure that these things continue to live in the best possible condition.

Speaking of other hands: how do you behave in the hotel?

Absolutely normal. I hang up pictures, change furniture, replace light bulbs.

Light bulbs?

I'm pretty light-affine. And often in hotels you have these terrible energy-saving lamps, in the light of which you look like a water corpse when you come out of the bathroom.

But where do you get the exchange bulbs from?

I always have it with me. These beautiful ones with the gold cap. And a white napkin that I always drape somewhere. And sometimes a pillowcase.

Phew. If I started like this, I would be afraid of getting into a very strange fairway.

Oh, it's quick and easy.

All right. What does your suitcase look like when traveling?

Very sorted. I roll everything, t-shirts, shirts, socks … It's much better. And I make sure that fresh and used laundry stays separate. But socks are an eternal problem. Sometimes one is missing or they are put together incorrectly, then an unpleasant disharmony arises. Not just on the go in a suitcase. Also in the drawer at home.

You are absolutely right. I am also dissatisfied with the sock situation. And the fact that three of our house residents have roughly the same shoe size doesn't make things any better. Nothing arrives for me anymore, and for the others no sock matches the other. But during the holidays I sometimes sit down and bring individual parts back together to the couple that it should be.

Like memory! Fortunately, that's Frank's domain with us. Like washing. I never wash.

Really never?

I have too much textile at work, which I cannot have at home. I also lack any talent. I wanted to wash shirts, tossed megaperls into the machine and filled in fabric softener – in the end to find out that what I started was the dryer and not the washing machine.

God god!

Yes, Frank's favorite shirt was over. Such a black one from Dior, two megaperls had burned themselves on the chest forever. After that I was relieved of this task.

But otherwise you will do everything in the household, right?

Nah. For example, I don't want to have anything to do with bedding. Covering the blankets gets on my nerves. Basically, I always resort to the wrong dimensions, since we also have guest beds that are narrower.

I would also like to know that: How can you tell if fitted sheets are 90 or 140 centimeters wide?

Or with duvet covers! Our housekeeper once managed to sausage our large double blanket in a narrow cover for a single one. I was just wondering about the role I was playing in the evening … When I asked the good guy about it the next day, she seemed a little proud that she had managed it.

Okay, so no bedding. What not yet?

Recycling centers. I did it with Frank once. That was pure horror.

Honest? I love the! The most effective way to dispose of a lot in one go. What is your problem?

Rats. I'm terrified of them. Even in front of mice, so I don't even take out the trash. If I open the lid and something beeps … I repeat myself: horror!

Oh man. I love garbage! Bringing it away is pure catharsis. And afterwards put the smelly trash cans in the shower and spray with the shower – wonderful!

Frank does that sometimes, but then I'm at a safe distance. Nah, brrr.

Now it is the case that we are not just for ourselves. You also work with people.

They don't always tick like me.

They leave candy paper lying around, hoarding piles of paper …

And post-its. So terrible, these yellow things on the screens … I now work a lot from home, but when I was still in an office with my employees, I simply did not enter some rooms. But I also learned something about myself in public space.

In fact?

If someone is messy, but with himself in peace, I can handle it. And if I like someone, they can even leave their candy wrappers lying around. It's that easy sometimes.

GUIDO MARIA KRETSCHMERWas born in Münster in 1965. After graduating from high school, he studied medicine for two semesters, but then switched radically to clothing design. He sold his first designs at the hippie market in Ibiza, where Udo Lindenberg discovered him. With his company he became the outfitter of various companies, with "Shopping Queen" he became a TV star. He has had his own magazine since 2018. Guido lives with his husband Frank and four dogs in Hamburg.

STEPHAN BARTELS, Eyewitness and ear witness to the conversation, is a talented hanger, but hates putting socks together.