melliemork.org

An op-ed piece written for my composition English class:

At this point, most people have seen the moms who only allow their toddlers to play with toys that fit a specific color scheme; a palette that consists entirely of muted pastels, beiges, off-whites, really any shade that could be described as “sad oat milk.” I vividly remember growing up surrounded by toys that screamed, flashed, and probably violated several safety regulations. And guess what? I turned out fine (for the most part). This muted-color, minimalistic lifestyle is spreading rapidly. While minimalism is often marketed as peaceful and intentional, its modern interpretation frequently prioritizes appearance over authenticity. What begins as a design choice quickly turns into a cultural standard that discourages individuality, creativity, and emotional expression. This change does not just shift how people choose to decorate; it reshapes how people, especially children and students, are taught to take up space in the world. While many people adopt and implement this minimalist decor choice into their lives, I do not because it compromises the character of certain spaces and introduces an issue that is bigger than just decoration. 

The new addiction to beige and minimalism has been spreading rapidly recently. Not just in parenting, but in schools, homes, and many other spaces where personality used to be encouraged. In fact, a new rule has just been put in place at our high school that “no flyers, posters, banners, etc. can be posted in or near the main entrance to avoid the school looking ‘cluttered.’” I understand the logic. I do not agree with it. It seems that the school administration does not want visitors to understand that teenagers have interests and personalities, and they want other people to get involved in their clubs and activities. Walls covered in flyers are not clutter; they are evidence of life. They show that students care enough about something to advertise it, to invite others in. When those visuals are removed, the encouragement that tells students their interests deserve space also vanishes. A blank wall may look clean, but it also looks completely indifferent. This decision will, at least in some capacity, expunge a part of the artistic aspect of this school and dumb down students’ passions. Yet, this is just one example of how this idea has become more popular. Several more instances can be viewed online and broadcast on social media. Now more than ever, this pandemic of simplifying and “decluttering” spaces that should be reserved for character and creativity is spreading rapidly.

Additionally, the whole idea feels less about peace and more about control. Control over how one’s life looks from the outside. Control over the aesthetic. Curating how people will be perceived. Performing. At some point, it is not about joy, but rather about being visually palatable. When everything must be neutral and curated, mistakes and mess become unacceptable. Color becomes a risk, passion becomes embarrassing, and, over time, people stop asking what they like and start asking what will look best from the outside. That mindset seeps into everything: school, fashion, social media, and even the way we talk about our interests. It feels that many people are slowly sanding themselves down into the least offensive versions of themselves. I believe that this is how one ends up with an unfulfilling life, which is why controlling these capacities appears to be a severe effect of this trend.

This possible suppression of self-expression could create a very negative environment, ultimately hindering the development of young children. Color literally stimulates cognitive development, enhances sensory experiences, and fosters emotional well-being; it helps children learn, feel, and connect with the world around them. That being said, I do not believe this issue is solely about paint colors or toy palettes, but about the message those choices send. When children are surrounded only by muted, curated environments, they are subtly taught that expressing excitement, curiosity, or preference is disruptive or inappropriate. Bright colors, visual variety, and playful “clutter” invite exploration and imagination. Sterile, blank environments, however, display passivity and restraint. Over time, this can limit a child’s willingness to experiment, take creative risks, or embrace their individuality. Instead of learning that their interests are valuable, they may learn that fitting a certain aesthetic matters more than joy or authenticity. An environment that restricts expression in the name of calm does not nurture growth; it conditions children to shrink themselves before they even understand who they are.

This issue does not stop affecting people once they grow out of childhood. For teenagers, self-expression is often one of the few ways to explore identity, cope with stress, and feel seen in a world that constantly demands conformity. When their environments are stripped of personality, it reinforces the idea that their interests are childish, embarrassing, or inconvenient. For adults, minimalism can become another performance. It becomes just one more expectation to appear composed, successful, and emotionally restrained. Spaces that lack warmth and personal touches can intensify feelings of isolation, making homes feel more like showrooms than places of rest or connection. Even seniors are affected, as familiar objects, colors, and decorations often provide comfort, memory, and a sense of continuity in later life. Removing these elements in favor of “clean” aesthetics can feel like erasing pieces of a person’s history. Across all ages, environments that discourage visual and emotional expression send the same message: take up less space. But humans do not outgrow the need for creativity, comfort, or identity, and spaces that reflect who we are remain essential at every stage of life.

This movement also contributes to a much bigger issue. Somewhere along the line, loving things openly turned into something that is done ironically, or not at all. Minimalism used to mean something reasonable, like “don’t buy things you don’t need” or “maybe you don’t require fifteen throw pillows.” Somehow, it seems to have evolved into more of an “remove all evidence that a human being lives here” idea. Homes now look like hotels that no one has ever slept in, bedrooms resemble waiting rooms, and children’s playrooms look like IKEA catalogs. They can be considerably beautiful and calm, but relatively joyless. The “Beige Moms” will tell people that it is about “intentional living” and “reducing overstimulation.” Toddlers, however, are often overstimulated simply by existence. They could be raised in a silent white void and would still find something to scream about. Babies do not care if their toy fits the vibe. They care if it lights up and makes a stupid noise. Unfortunately, the $80 beige felt rainbow is not beating the Fisher-Price plastic monstrosity with flashing lights and a slightly demonic laugh. Childhood is one of the few stages of life where joy is supposed to be loud, irrational, and unfiltered. By limiting a child’s environment to what is visually pleasing to adults, we teach them, before they can even speak, that their preferences come second to appearances. Many people frame this topic in a way that masks the lesser-than aspects to make it more receptive. This notion creates a negative stigma surrounding self-expression and ultimately damages society’s general view of heavily decorated people and spaces.

Many present modern minimalism as calming and clean, but I find that in practice, it often strips spaces of the very things that make them meaningful. What begins as a design preference quickly becomes a cultural expectation that values visual palatability over creativity and sincerity. From beige nurseries to blank school hallways, this trend teaches people, especially young ones, to minimize themselves, their interests, and their passions for the sake of appearing “put together.” A world that discourages color, clutter, and enthusiasm does not promote calm. Instead, it promotes fear of judgment and discomfort with authenticity. If the world is unable to handle a little color, that is not minimalism, it is fear, and I would rather be loud, messy, and embarrassing than live in a world filtered of everything that makes it real and imperfect.

Thank you for taking the time to read my two cents on this topic. I hope it encouraged some thinking of your own. This essay-like post strays away from the blogs I’ve done so far, but that’s kind of the point of my blog in general as I’ll continue to try different styles. I have not submitted this essay for grading yet, so wish me an A+! See you next week!