The Daily Telegraph. "She'll Hang'em or Flog'em".

You just would not believe anyone could get so excited about coat hangers. “These flocked ones are absolutely wonderful,” says Julia Dee, brandishing a round-shouldered specimen with an eye-catching, puce suedette finish, a real enthusiasts hanger.

But wait, there is more to clothes storage than you might have believed possible. “You should also have straight hangers, as well as some peg hangers for trousers. Three types of hanger that everyone should have. Wire hangers from the dry cleaners? Don’t even mention them!.”

Then there are the boxes: “They must be acid-free. And you must wrap your clothes in acid-free tissue paper.” And plastic? “If you put white garments in plastic bags and leave them, they’ll discolour. And you won’t be able to get them white again. It happened to a Swiss lady who was a client of mine.”

It should be evident from all this that Julia has an uncategorisable genius for managing clothes. Working from a mews building in Battersea, she and her eighteen staff alter clothes, repair them, fix them, store them – with the kind of busy obsessiveness you might expect in New York or Hong Cong, but only rarely in SW8.

A computer program has even been written exclusively so that Julia can organize her client database and keep minute track of any single garment going through her hands.

Heart-wrenching testimonials sing the praises of her and her staff: “Julia Dee is fantastic” (Jamima Kahn); “I do not know what I would do without them” (Lulu). Jo Malone, of perfume fame, swears by her. Lawyer and international media executive Sally Davies calls her “Fantastic, invaluable, extremely efficient”. Clothes left with her for six months come back “absolutely perfect”. And so on.

On top of all this, though, is the fact that Julia goes further, deeper, stronger. Not only will she get your gear looking good, she will solve that perennial British problem, the one that dogs every house in the UK and which generations of British architects and interior specialists have failed to address: Why is there never enough storage space?

Decades go by, we become more affluent, more acquisitive and more clothed. And there is still nowhere to put it all. Our cupboards explode and our floors are piled with footwear.

The answer? TWC: Total Wardrobe Care. This is a near-Jesuit philosophy of living in which Julia cleans you clothing, pads with tissue, makes sure it is hanging properly, then covers it up and places it correctly in a special area in her upper-floor workroom, where it stays until you need it again. She becomes, in other words, your virtual wardrobe, solving some, if not all, of your problems at a stroke.

The cost is 50p per week, a minimum of ten garments needed; plus valuing, starting at £8 for a pair of trousers up to a dizzying £60 for a sheep skin coat. Naturally, if the thing needs repairing, then you have to add that in.

And how long do you want the item out of action? Three months? Six? Fifteen serious winter items (coats and ballgowns) for six months can total up. “People become incredibly discerning about their clothing when they’re paying 50p a week for storage. No matter how well-heeled they are,” says Julia.

Sally Davies claims joint authorship of the storage/reservation concept. “I said, one of the biggest banes of my life is that I just don’t have enough storage space. So one afternoon we just came up with the idea to together.”

As a former heavy-hitter with the Disney Corporation, you might think Sally could afford as much storage space for her clothes as she liked. But no. This is not the States, this is London, and there is never enough storage in a London house.

But then, Julia Dee doesn’t stop there. No, for £45 an hour, she will came round to your groaning wardrobe and deal with it in person, downsizing and refining, so as to make the best use of the space.

She will cull the rubbish, spruce up the marginalia and “action” the rest. She will tell you what works for you and what doesn’t. She will tell you things you daren’t even tell yourself. And then, having actioned your clothes, she will hang the survivors on the right kind of hanger, while the bad things, the unwearables, are marched straight down the charity shop. Unsurprisingly, no male clients have yet come forward for this service.

Now, considered this: Are we desperately unlucky because, unlike almost all American citizens, we do not enjoy closet space as our birth right and have to resort to this extremes in order to live our lives? Or are we fortunate, because without the cramped chaos of the average British wardrobe, we would never enjoy Julia Dee’s ultimately liberating sense of purpose and attention to detail? For some of us, cultural crisis don’t come much deeper.”