Meet Miss B.
"Miss B" was her grandmother's name for her, and it stuck, like the good stuff does. The business name is hers too, and she means it literally: Apocalypse is the end of your old world, going through everything you own, piece by piece. Genesis is the new one: systems, flow, and a home set up for who you're becoming.
She's busy organizing.
Your home is a 3D vision board.
That's the heart of it. Feng shui: the ancient Chinese art of using your environment to attract the best possible future you can imagine. Outer equals inner. She'll tell you this with a wink and total sincerity, because it happens to be true either way: what you see when you walk in your door every day is what you believe about your life.
And here's the flip side: your home is an amalgamation of everything you are, but also everything you were. If you're not decluttering, all of your old identities are still living in your house, taking up the closets. Miss B's whole job is clearing space for your future self instead. As she puts it, via Tim Gunn: look at what you want it to be, then get rid of everything that isn't that.
You were never supposed to do this alone.
Here's the riff she gives every client who apologizes for their house, condensed: your grandmother's generation "kept the house clean" because for most of history, a household ran on help: a whole village of it, and the well-off had literal servants. (And frankly, a lot of the mid-century supermoms were running on prescriptions we've since thought better of.) They had help. You have a job, a family, a phone that never stops, and zero staff.
So if you're not doing great at a job that used to take several people? It's normal, dude. You're not lazy, you're understaffed. Miss B is the staff. That's the whole offer, and there's not a drop of judgment in it.
KonMari hands, feng shui eyes.
The hands-on work is KonMari: everything you own, piece by piece, room by room. She likes to start with the kitchen or the closet, because that's where the wins show up fastest. You make every keep-or-go call. In an overstuffed home, 50 to 75% of it usually turns out to be excess, and about half your chore load leaves with it.
Then the feng shui layer, in her canonical order: the entryway first (the mouth of Qi, where everything enters your home and your life), then the kitchen, where you literally and energetically get your sustenance, then the bedroom, where you spend a third of your life. Energy flows like a river; her job is clearing the riverbed.
And everything you let go of goes to people who want it: donation runs to shelters and moms' groups, or the legendary free garage sale. Nothing wasted, nobody shamed, and one more home with room in it for the future.