The New Yorker's Ben McGrath looks at Bronx pack rat Patrice Moore who was recently trapped in his apartment for two days due to an avalanche of his saved magazines. Sometimes called "disposophobia," Moore's hoarding is both most New Yorkers' fear ("I'll need that issue of Time Out because you never know when I'll need to know what happened week of April 2, 2002.") as well as marvel ("How did he get so much into a 10 by 10 space without an organization system from Hold Everything or the Container Store?") When told about Moore's entrapment of fifty bags of printed media, Ron Alford, who runs Disaster Masters, Inc. (a company that will clean up people's clutter), says, Oh, its chump change." Alford also adds, Im on my way to the Lower East Side right now to go look at a project where this gal is up to her armpits in stuff, he said. And she just doesnt know how to deal with it, but we do. We know that the National Geographics are never going to be worth anything. Hee.
McGrath lists a few of the magazines found in Moore's apartment: Advertising Age, Ebony, Harvard Business Review, Penthouse. Moore proudly adds, "Essence, In Stylethey know me, he said. All the magazines know me. Vogue. Vogue know me, too. Lucky. Quick, Conde Nast, send him a subscription to Cargo!
