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An assortment of just a few of the things I want in my future home

We are constantly spiraling more and more into a dystopian world.

In our new era of technology, the world is ever-changing and evolving while we bear witness to its vast changes. We have no choice but to be bystanders, staring idly as language, government, environment, and fashion change rapidly from moment to moment at a whim.

One of these significant changes—one that I believe is for the worse— is the “modernization” of architecture and interior design. Intricacy is out, and austere boxes and greyscale cubes are in.

Architecture has been evolving since the beginning of time and was on a steady incline of quality and beauty until it suddenly plateaued and fell in the 20th century. One of the significant aspects this has declined in is in homes.

Currently, an epidemic is sweeping our country—and the world—as people bring their homes into the 21st century. I don’t mean through technology or utilitarian facets but rather through design. Right now, the “in” trend for homes is neutrals, with many people painting both the inside and outside of their homes grey and beige.

I’m no hater of neutrals, but it’s come to an extent where people are wrecking the gorgeous mid-century homes that memorialize the past and replacing them with bland, greyscale boxes made of glass. I long for the intricacy and ornate details that make a home a home. I want the embellished walls and the textured ceilings with grand chandeliers.

I want the original wooden spiral staircases engraved with serpentine and adorned flowers woven and raveled around the posts, and I want a red and white marble checkerboard floor that sparkles when the light hits it just right. I believe that not everything in your house should match, and not every cabinet and counter needs to be made to be white and shiny.

I don’t know when we decided that a sterilized hospital was the aesthetic we wanted for our homes, but that was a mistake. Minimalism is the new norm, and people are over-romanticizing something bland and sad. It’s not going to kill them to incorporate some color in their house; even an accent pillow would immensely improve the beige setting that’s supposed to be home. 

I am a maximalist until the day I die. I will always have mismatched furniture and designs; not every pattern will go together and perfectly match, and I think that’s entirely fine. When I own a house someday, I want to keep the original antiquated floors, the polished wood staircase, and the ugly wallpaper. Each unique facet and hidden feature only makes the house more special and sometimes imperfection is something to strive for.

I want an exorbitant chandelier hanging from the entrance, and I want color and life spread throughout my home. It should be clear from every square foot of it that someone lives and thrives in that house; a home should be more than a place to survive. It should be a place to experience every wonder of life and live it in full. My house doesn’t need to be a perfect amalgamation of shiny organization; it needs the charm only a natural home can have. I want to be able to hang stockings on the mantle of a beautifully crafted fireplace at Christmas time, I want a creaky wooden porch to sit at in the morning and sip my coffee, and I want a bay window where I can grow old as I stare and watch the world around me change. 

We need to stop getting caught up in the minuscule details and instead go big, live life colorfully, and stop worrying if everything matches the perfect aesthetic. Until we let go of these unrealistic standards of formulated perfection that drain the energy out of our neighborhoods and cities, we will continue to spiral further and further toward a colorless world.