I’m currently sitting in my living room, more and more art appearing on the walls and a bookcase that is about two books away from collapsing. I’ve just finished making food in a kitchen that’s full of oil jugs, moka pots, bottles of wine and random chopping boards. If I had not done so a long time ago, I have now most definitely stopped believing in minimalism.
I’m not even sure there’s a war going on between the two. For the last three years, though, we’ve discussed the death of one and the rise of the other, continuing to do so as well. But no one is actually standing up, ordering us to pick from the monochromatic throw and the patchwork one. Minimalism has had an arrogance for some time and, no matter where you looked, it felt like you were constantly told that you’d not succeed in life unless you had ‘space’. Wall space and floor space = headspace to excel, apparently. False, I know.
Not as much since I got a mortgage and grew up slightly but for years, I regularly trawled eBay and similar websites on the hunt for trinkets, collectables and anything I found cool. It was mainly focused on football, though. The weirder, the better. But at the same time, I always thought that when I moved from my parent’s house, my place would be quiet in terms of decor. It didn’t help that, at the time, I was slightly obsessed with Kanye West (pre-Nazi outburst, of course) and his house was sparse of anything. But minimalism was never ‘me’. And never has been. I live with my girlfriend in our own flat, which is why I’m no longer hunting down football trinkets as I’ve (currently) no place to put them because I’m (shockingly) not allowed to plaster them all over our living room. No worries, though, as I’m patiently biding my time. However, I still hunt for bits, football-related or not. Whether it’s Vinted, charity shops, flea markets or whatever. I love adding bits and pieces to our home in a less hoardy way but a more organised busyness way.
This, to me, is a form of expression and personality. Adding ‘stuff’ to your space is like allowing people to look inside your brain. It’s the assertion of your soul, of where it’s been and what it’s experienced. In the flat, we’ve amassed things from our endeavours from Marrakech to Naples to Paris. But we’ve also got things that I found in the local Sue Ryder store because it screamed at me from the shelf ‘YOU NEED ME’. I didn’t, but I still bought it anyway.
And it doesn’t stop at just the quantity of things, either. Designs, colours, patterns. Next time you venture into a homeware shop in the local gentrified town, take note. It’s probably the brightest shop you’ll have been in with patterns that’ll send anyone dizzy. Checkerboards galore and spirals all over. Not only is minimalism ‘having more stuff’, it’s also that stuff having ‘more’.
The aesthetic trend of minimalism seemingly started following World War II as a reaction against modernism and expressionism. It’s essentially the stripping back of the unnecessary and focusing on the purest form of beauty in the art. And that’s your first problem, there. Who decides what is and isn’t necessary? “Less is more” they say and I say “bollocks to them”. You can date the (re)emergence of maximalism back to the pandemic, too. The self-expressive nature of interior design and fashion is influenced by feelings and growth. So, maximalism can be linked to that filling of the void during a time when human connections were scarce and interactions low. Filling your house with stuff that allows you to ‘feel something’ was, and still is, crucial even if it’s you hitting the floor after tripping on that new rug you just got for a tenner.
I’m not telling anyone how to design their life, though. At the end of the day, what the fuck do I know? After all, I’m not an interior designer, architect and/or other. Style is a pendulum and, minimalism had its time. People had their reasons to support it, including various political implications thrown in for good measure.
But I don’t care for the perfectly placed wooden bowls and the bare white walls anymore. I want character. I want books all over the place alongside random ornaments and both empty and full vases. I want artwork all over the walls, no matter if it matches or creates a ‘theme’. I want my kitchen full of stuff I use to cook, wines and pantry bits (preferably Italian, too). Character is important, and telling a story is even more so. Minimalism disrupts that, limiting your narrative. Buy that weird lamp you saw online. Go mad at the local market. Minimalism is dead. God save the things.
