I am stuck in a Beige Bubble

KIM KARDASHIAN AND MEGHAN MARKLE APPROVE

The world of taupe interiors on Instagram isn’t a monolith. It shifts by lifestyle. Meghan Markle (now Sussex, as we have been reminded) shares a luxurious beige home with Prince Harry and the usual suspects — patterned throw pillows, beautiful photobooks and a 14 million-dollar sprawling estate. Another California resident, Kim Kardashian, is infamous for her minimalist home, where even the Christmas trees partake in the pared-back aesthetic. While it is harmless to watch from a distance, we cannot pretend the influence of online celebrities has no weight. We must ask ourselves: Who has the privilege of deciding good taste?

TURNS OUT ADOLF HITLER WAS NOT A FAN

Scandinavian Minimalism and Japandi (a term that my Editor is not very fond of) have taken over popular culture. But before dismissing them as fleeting trends filled with artificial plants and allergy risks, it’s worth exploring their deeper roots, ones that trace back more than a century. The story begins with a surge in Oriental travel by the Dutch, who, upon arriving in Japan, found a surprising kinship in aesthetic values. Both cultures shared a deep appreciation for minimalism and hand-craftsmanship. Japanese design, shaped by Zen Buddhism, iki and wabi-sabi, has since become central to contemporary design philosophies around the world. (And we have probably all forgotten what any of these actually meant.)

But where did the Dutch discover their minimalist impulse? The answer may lie in the De Stijl movement, which emerged in the early 20th century. Started by Dutch artists like Piet Mondrian, De Stijl was inspired by Cubism and, in turn, went on to influence the Bauhaus school in Weimar, Germany. While Bauhaus gained a loyal following for embracing the industrial age, it also drew resistance. Most notably from Adolf Hitler. The Nazi regime actively suppressed Modernist and Minimalist movements, including Bauhaus, prompting key figures like Walter Gropius and Mies van der Rohe to emigrate to the United States. Not before trying to convince Hitler to commission them, of course. They then carried forward the legacy, teaching at institutions like Harvard and the Illinois Institute of Technology. Ironically, by shutting down the Bauhaus in Germany, the Nazis catalysed its global spread. Perhaps we should be careful what we wish for.

BEIGE INTERIORS FOR THE BUCK

The IKEA catalogue, once the most printed book in the world after the Bible, heavily featured neutral interiors with beige textiles, birch wood, white walls and natural textures. It made sense for the Swedish brand that takes inspiration from its Scandinavian origins. But the popularity of the so-called “IKEA aesthetic” may not be because we collectively love beige but because beige just makes sense. It hides wear and tear better than white and ages more gracefully than trendy colours. It also appeals to people making cost-conscious, low-risk purchases, which is a key part of IKEA’s target demographic. A beige sofa or cabinet might not always look the most interesting, but it also will never be glaringly out of place, which means longer product lifespans and less post-shopping regret.

For those of us who have lived in rental accommodation or love to binge-watch Selling Sunset would be familiar with the strange faded yellow that coats the walls. A distant cousin of beige, the colour is considered a “safe bet” in real estate. It appeals to the broadest number of buyers because it’s seen as clean, adaptable and inoffensive. Builders and developers often choose beige walls, carpeting and countertops to make their homes appear as a blank canvas for faster resale. Without the coldness of grey or the high maintenance of white, beige presents itself as an ideal “neutral” ground.

COMFORT-CORE TO RECESSION-CORE?

The rise of the beige aesthetic is often referred to as comfort-core, it also coincides with something we would not expect: “recession-core”. An aesthetic shaped by economic uncertainty. Beige feels safe and non-committal, appealing to patrons wary of bold choices during unstable times. It reflects a desire for calm, emotional control, and visual minimalism. As maximalism fades, beige offers a subdued sophistication, fitting trends like “quiet luxury” and “soft minimalism.” It’s a cultural response to crisis, signalling restraint, comfort, and a turn toward low-risk, high-comfort living. Beige is the colour of “don’t rock the boat.” And in uncertain times, that’s exactly the point.

“Yes, the aesthetic has travelled widely, but there is perhaps not much intelligent reasoning behind its influence except the obvious. I often feel we’re heavily influenced by the West and their colour palettes. I get it — opposites attract. From our chaos to European calm, it’s easy to fall into that trap,” Mrudul Pathak Kundu, Editor at ELLE DECOR India, tells me. As someone who has led a design magazine for years, it is hard to find a trend that she has not come across. She elaborates, “There was a time when I saw so many homes sporting the same pastel art — the kind that’s everywhere on Pinterest. Easy to replicate, instant calm. Over time, that somehow rolled into this giant beige ball.”

IS IT REALLY OUR CHOICE OR A FREUDIAN SLIP?

Our personal identities are constantly tied to the stuff that surrounds us. Sigmund Freud’s nephew, Edward Bernays, who was greatly influenced by his uncle, wrote in his 1928 book Propaganda, “What are the true reasons why the purchaser is planning to spend his money on a new car instead of a piano?” Is it because we want a car more than we want music? Not really, he says, “[The purchaser] buys a car, because it is at the moment the group custom to buy cars.” While it may not be that nefarious, we create beige homes because everyone else creates beige homes. How much control do we have over our personal choices?
Israeli intellectual Yuval Harari also touches on the idea that repeated exposure can blur genuine preference. Architect and design professor Meera Vasudev simplifies the idea in this context: “The beige trend feels like listening to that silly pop song on repeat and then suddenly humming along to it.” It’s no secret that most of our consumption of social media is too homogeneous, and according to Richard Sennett, who is an American sociologist, the more homogenised a group, the less inclined its members will be to openly engage in public discourse.

IS THE CALL TO BAN BEIGE COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE?

Now, coming to the elephant in the room. Have design magazines not created the aspirational image of the ideal home? It is important to acknowledge it, but also be mindful of the fact that media of any kind is a reflection of the society we live in. “As the editor of an interiors magazine, I review 12 to 15 homes every week. Between 2020 to 2023/24, at least four to five of them would almost always follow the same neutral, muted palette. It was hard to miss the pattern,” says Mrudul.

The aesthetics we see on our screens are not created in a vacuum. They mirror our collective desires, anxieties and evolving ideals. But how long can context-less design continue? Mrudul avers, “I’m beginning to notice a subtle yet significant shift. More homes are now embracing India in their aesthetic, and that truly makes me smile.” But how did this change come about? “It seemed to gain momentum when Indian designers began creating large pieces of furniture locally during the COVID years. With global supply chains disrupted, it pushed a renewed focus on craftsmanship at home, giving rise to a stronger ‘Make in India’ narrative, and with it, a deeper, more rooted design identity.” It is time to ask ourselves, who gets to call the shots when it comes to creating culture? Is good taste a matter of social capital? Why do we detest trends yet follow them anyway?

Still can’t get over the beige aesthetic? Read next: Why colour is obsessed with gender (it’s not as straightforward as you think)