I DISSENT: The Modern “Obsession” with Minimalism
In my nightmares, I arrive home to a beige house, dressed head to toe in beige. I set down my beige Stanley cup and beige bag, and to my horror and disgust, I find a mud stain on my beige shoes. Searching for a distraction from the blemish on my shoe, my eyes dart to the beige walls of my home, finding no solace in the beige interior. Panic seizes my chest as I reach for a beige napkin to clean my pristine shoes, which are no longer beige—and then I wake up.
The irony of “beige culture” is that, in order to be minimal, you must first buy everything you own in its various placid shades. The minimalist movement is yet another trend to be consumed and has been commodified. Minimalism and the color beige have become symbols of wealth, as they often indicate curated and expensive spaces, typically occupied by those who can afford the upkeep of light colors. Minimalist products are often more expensive anyway, and a decluttered life is frequently associated with wealth, rather than a commitment to underconsumption.
This aestheticized version of wealth and privilege reflects a change in values, as people disengage from the deeper philosophical intent of minimalism. When reduced to a simple trend, minimalism loses the cultural and philosophical weight it once held. Original minimalist philosophy, such as Japanese Zen culture, calls for creating and embracing space. Zen minimalism emphasizes the importance of the space between things, in connection with mindfulness and nature. In other words, there is no call to fill space with beige because less is more—even if the "less" is bright red.
What we gain in beige cleanliness, we lose in character and authenticity. The death of playful creativity signifies the restraining of aesthetics rather than the embracing of individuality. We stifle the imagination that comes with colorful environments when we opt for muted expression. As children, I remind you, we reached for colorful crayons. A six-pack of colors with just a few rainbow hues was a limit to creativity; it was the sixty-four pack we all desired. What six-year-old is saddened by the lack of beige in their coloring kit? So, where did the desire for muted and quiet tones suddenly appear?
Monotony, which stifles personal expression, cannot be the answer to a world so globalized that you can instantaneously chat with people in most regions of the world. Perhaps the adherence to minimalism is a choice made by the exhausted public, who would rather follow the popularity of what is happening around them than make a real decision for themselves. Does true minimalism exist in a capitalist society? Is minimalism authentic if it is merely a performance?
The need for authentic minimalism is ever-present today. True minimalism is not bought through beige overconsumption but rather represents a will to live with intention and reduce consumption. In an increasingly uniform world that values perfection, it is braver to embrace individuality. Do not allow “big beige” to consume your space—unless, of course, it is your heart’s truest desire to buy all things muted. Consuming more won’t lead to deeper fulfillment; it only serves as a distraction from the richer and more authentic life we all crave.
