An Un-Instagrammable Home
Over the last few years, the world has become obsessed with how their life looks through the lens of an app. Restaurants complain that people are taking longer, and having a worse dining experience, because they are too busy trying to capture a perfect image of their meal. People are literally falling off cliffs trying to snap a selfie while enjoying a holiday. And, far too many people have forgotten what it is like to have a home, and have replaced it with a replica of an image they saw while scrolling social media. People are buying books based not on the contents within, but on their colour palate, and how it makes them appear. Everything is cleverly arranged and, often, stiff and lifeless. All of this has me thinking. I wonder if it is time to rethink how we live our lives with a particular aesthetic in mind. I wonder if it is time for the un-Instagrammable home.
Just as some of the best tasting food in the world would never get the love it deserves on social media, I would argue the same is true for homes. When I think back to many of the houses I have been in that made me feel warm, welcome, and connected to the people who lived there, none of them have been “showhome perfect”. There were stacks of books (ones for reading, not for show) on the floor, far too many plants and/or animals, and weird and interesting art that has never been sold at Ikea. The houses felt real, lived in, and inviting. However, I never felt the urge to group items together on a shelf to drive likes. It felt like the people living there understood themselves, and the house was simply an extension of them – their passions and personalities were reflected in more than just the mirrors. These houses were beautiful and interesting, but they couldn’t be captured in 1080 square pixels.
Now don’t get me wrong – this isn’t to say that a picture of your living space can’t look great. If what I see on social media is truly your style, I throw no shade your way. However, the ubiquitous nature of certain “personal styles” makes me question how personal they are. I am simply advocating for a return to individual style that feels truly individual; not crowd sourced.
What does your house say about you? What do people, including you, feel when you look around? Are you excited to trail behind visitors, and explain the story – the personal history – behind every piece? Or, does it exist only as a unified whole? Does it look good in a photograph? Or, does it feel good in your heart? There is nothing wrong with appreciating artfulness, and order. And, there is also nothing wrong with a home that isn’t quite so Instagrammable.