Maximalism: There’s Plenty of Joy in Having More
When I was a child, my grandparents gave me an encyclopedia set, like this:
I went through every single volume, thumbing through the pages looking for images of Animalia of any kind. I carefully ripped those pages out, then plastered them to my bedroom walls (thankfully I used Scotch tape instead of glue). Eventually, my entire room was covered in colorful pictures of all things related to fauna. Whales, birds, a cartoon-like image of a tiger (Jaguar? Cheetah? Who knows) took over every available inch of space on the walls.
Fast forward to years later when music became my muse. The cute and colorful animals were soon replaced with flyers for shows with the names and logos of bands from my hometown and far beyond. Those flyers ranged from punk rock shows to the entire monthly lineup for local clubs — even if I was still too young to get in on most nights. There were plenty of band posters too, and there was still zero white space left anywhere on those walls.
As I’ve gotten older, I still adore aesthetically pleasing images, bold colors, unique furniture, and unusual objects. Textures, artwork, and sculptures have always filled my home — and every room to boot. But it wasn’t until recently that I discovered there was an actual term for this mild obsession: “maximalism.” This interior decorating style is an antithesis, a rebellion if you will, against minimalism. Instead of thinking that “less is more,” maximalism contends that “more is more.” And I’m here for it. In fact, I’ve always been here for it, I just didn’t know that a legitimate style like this existed for people like me until recently.
Some descriptions I’ve read refer to maximalism as being “loud.” While that might be true, it’s more than that. It’s the idea that the things you surround yourself with should be inspiring, unique, and tailored to show off your personality. You should surround yourself with things that make you tick. Things that inspire you. Things that add flavor to your life. Minimalism is terrific in theory, but is it something that most of us can live with all the time? I have no problems with minimalism, but it feels too cold, stark, and like I’d hear a loud echo in my own house if I yelled down the hallway.
People like Marie Kondo encourage people to get rid of anything that doesn’t “spark joy.” But who’s to say what really does or doesn’t spark joy, and when something might cause joy to spontaneously combust? I can look around and see things on shelves, tables, and walls that give me joy daily. The horsehair pottery bear I bought during my first trip to New Mexico. Artwork that my friends painted just for me. Fun items I found in thrift stores that made my jaw drop. Each of these things has its own story and its own important place in my home. If I one day decide that something no longer “sparks joy,” believe me, I will happily replace it with something else.
While a lot of folks try to equate maximalism with materialism, it’s much more than that. I admit that I have a shopping problem and I love to add new and interesting things to my surroundings. But this fun, colorful, eclectic design movement means something deeper, something more personal. Harper’s Bazaar recently published an article asking which is more stylish: minimalism or maximalism? While there isn’t necessarily one definitive answer to this question, I’ll take rich colors, fun textures, unusual shapes, and things that jog my memory about happy times from the past any day. A stark, white room feels too clinical. Neat and tidy is fine, but a minimalist home just doesn’t bring joy for me.
Sorry, Marie.
