Why I have no time for IG accounts pushing pristine minimalist interiors

American Psycho (2000) Lionsgate Films.

In our Unfollow column, we take a look at the rise of social media tropes and put a finger on why some of them haunt us, even after we close the app. Call us negative, but we’re positive that sometimes, the only thing you can do to keep sane in our age of overstimulation is mute, hide, and unfollow.

An infamous piece of advice from the online pro-anorexia communities is to cover your fridge with photos of bikini-clad supermodels in order to keep yourself from eating. The shame of not looking like them is supposed to help you overcome your desire to eat so that you can be thinner. This is how I feel when I sit in my untidy room, scrolling through photos on the ‘gram of perfectly white interiors, contrasted by sparse Scandinavian design furniture and perfectly spaced Japanese table settings.

My personal tastes have always been maximalist. I get no thrill from putting one piece of uncomfortable furniture in a huge white room and cleaning is something I do because I am having company over: not as a hobby. To tell the truth, I actually feel a bit uncomfortable in my home when everything is spotless, because my presence there will only be undoing all of my hard work.

I don’t have a problem with people who are naturally clean, organised, or prefer neutral colour pallets, but there is something about the online aspirational austerity that can quickly feel overbearing. For instance, if you just happen to keep a clean desk, that’s fine, but I refuse to believe that anyone other than a serial killer arranges exactly three pencils, all sharpened to a standardised point, on their white marble work surface.

 

The Real Housewives of Orange County, Bravo

Minimalism also falls between the categories of design and philosophy, which are both subjects that come with a lot of patronising. Too often, guests of the minimalist persuasion offer uninvited advice on how you could make the space look larger or streamline. The assumption is always that if you only knew the truth, the way and the light of minimalism, then you too would follow in the Spartan path, when actually, you happen to have arranged your house the way you like it—with various hues of pastel velvet, gilded photo frames and enough furniture to comfortably have people over.

 Beyond design, there is the business of tidying up (with or without Marie Kondo). I wouldn’t classify myself as a hoarder, but a lot of things seem to spark joy in me—so much so that I get distracted by my bliss and forget to throw them away. As a busy and important career woman with no children, husbands or pets, I don’t think my home has to be presentable at every moment.

Minimalism on Instagram is one of those things I followed because society told me that I was supposed to like it. But when it comes to the things we like, should isn’t good enough – you have to feel it. So,  I’m letting go of all of dogmatic minimalist shame and making room for things that I actually want to look at, like memes or chandelier accounts.

Anything you’re cutting out of your social media diet? Send your pitch to kathryn@sleekmag.com.