“Little by little, Sara’s organizing has been improving MY organizational skills. I don’t know how she’s doing it, but even when she’s not here, I’m keeping the house cleaner and the organization makes everything SO much easier. Sara’s resourceful, versatile, and she’s GREEN. She’s all about reduce, reuse, recycle. She’ll make sure that your old paint goes to the right haz mat station. If what you need is a plumber for your old pipes, she’ll find someone who specializes in old pipes. She’s a dynamo of energy, vaguely OCD, endlessly creative, and inexplicably motivated to solve your weird problem with having too many pens.” — KayteVanScoy


What I loved most about working with Sara besides her dedication and enthusiasm was her ability to adapt to the situation and offer suggestions and solutions within the established budget. Her hard work motivated me to finish some projects that I had started but not worked on in a while. She's focused on completing whatever task she is working on and will see it through to completion. —Tanya Barnett


The Austin Chronicle wrote about Solutions by Sara on April 18, 2014:

“… To a professional organizer, your closet is not some kind of emotional Thermopylae, but rather a finite set of problems for which solutions lie in wait. To dip a toe into the organizing world, I turned to Sara Combs, closet whisperer and professional neatnik.
For Sara, as for many professional organizers, this is a second career, a passion career. After 15 years in the mortgage and banking industries, she was beginning to question the value of her work, and had decided to move back to her hometown of Austin. Then came the car wreck that changed everything. She remembers coming to consciousness lying in the middle of Loop 610 in Houston with broken ribs, a broken foot, and a concussion that would temporarily alter her personality and take away her lifelong facility with numbers. "Six times three was coming out 24, every time," she says. "And it was months before I was functional to interact with other people again."
While recovering from her concussion, Sara moved back into her mother's house in Austin, and it was there, in the house where she grew up, that she found her calling. Helping her mother repair, clean, and organize four decades' worth of living felt good – really good. Soon she was doing it for the neighbors, many of whom were aging family friends. Before long Sara had acquired a mentor in the Austin professional organizing community and started Solutions by Sara (www.solutionsbysara.blogspot.com). Now, she gets paid to straighten up people's lives.
She still feels a special affinity for retirees who are downsizing in order to go into assisted living. "One of my values is that I want to take care of the people who took care of me growing up," she says. Having gone through some sizable transitions in her own life, she understands how difficult it can be. In a post-reality TV world, a large part of her job is helping her clients overcome feelings of shame over the stuff they've accumulated over the course of their lives and reassuring them that it doesn't make them "hoarders." (At least, she's never had one so far.) "This isn't about getting rid of everything. You don't have to have an empty house," she says. She likes listening to the stories behind the stuff, and advocates strategies that allow clients to hold on to some of the memories without drowning in them – including storage solutions that she prefers to find in her clients' homes, a thrifty and environmentally responsible alternative to expensive plastic containers.
So that I could see her in action, Sara agreed to take a quick spin through a friend's crowded closet. First she offered plenty of praise for the organization that had already taken place. Then, peering up at the 30-odd pairs of pants stacked above eye level, she discussed ways to keep from being paralyzed or overwhelmed. "Think of it like peeling an onion," she said. "The outer layer comes off right away. Have you done the easiest stuff yet?" The "onion layer" sloughed off seven pairs right away, and my friend, encouraged, moved on to her dresses.
April, tough? Eliot never lived through July in Texas. I went home and opened up my closet. Outside, it started to rain."