Beige Homes and Pinterest Aesthetic
No. 65 - Embracing messes, mismatched mugs, and fridge art.
Sometime over the past five years (maybe more?), we decided to strip the life out of our homes.
The ideal became beige, lifeless interiors that show no hint of personality—or that anyone actually lives there. We’ve sterilized, decluttered, and taken minimalism to the extreme. We’ve even turned our books around so only the white pages show—heaven forbid the colorful spines clash with the decor.
My issue isn’t really with how people choose to decorate. It’s with the quiet pressure it puts on us as mothers.
When Pinterest and Instagram tell us our homes should look a certain way, we feel like we’re falling short when ours don’t. We stress when our furniture doesn’t match because it’s been collected over years and different seasons of life.
And I’m not just talking about adding a pop of color or a quirky accessory. I’m talking about bringing life back into our homes.
We apologize for the dishes in the sink. We scramble to hide the toys on the floor. We’re afraid to actually live in our homes because it might “ruin the aesthetic.”
This afternoon, an older woman in the neighborhood invited me over for a May 1st tea party. The moment I walked through her front door, I felt warmth. A lifetime of memories had been made there—you could feel it.
Her walls and shelves were filled with mementos from her travels, gifts from friends, and personal treasures. Her gardening gloves were still by the front door from that morning’s work in the yard.
She served us tea in mismatched mugs, and we sat around her table in an assortment of chairs so we could all squeeze in. It wasn’t perfect—and that made it perfect. You felt like you could settle in and exhale.
If that home had been Pinterest-perfect, I’m sure it would have been lovely. But I’m also certain it would’ve been harder to relax. Like I might do something wrong and mess it up. In her home, I was free to be my own imperfect self.
A house becomes a home when it reflects the people who live there—not just their style, but their stories. The life lived inside, the people loved, the memories made.
I want a home where someone can walk in, sink into the couch, and just breathe.
Let’s bring life back into our homes—and remind each other that it’s okay to live in them.
Let’s put the kids’ artwork back on the fridge. Leave the shoes piled by the back door.
Frame the photo from your last family trip. Display the knick-knacks you picked up along the way.
Let’s sit on the couch with toys scattered around and traces of red marker from that one overzealous toddler moment.
Let’s drink tea from chipped mugs passed down through generations, and reminisce about the concert poster framed on the wall.
Give me heirlooms with no monetary value—but personal worth beyond measure.
Because what makes a home beautiful isn’t how well it photographs—it’s how well it holds the people inside, and how welcome others feel when they walk through its door.
🥦 My friend Courtney recommended this recipe and it was a hit in our house. I’ve never cooked tofu before, but she said the key is to press and drain it properly (don’t skip this step!) and it turned out perfectly crispy!
📖 I just finished reading this book and I cannot stop thinking about it! It’s a thriller, set at a summer camp in the 1970’s with some really unique characters.
💄 I’m loving this toner from Indie Lee. It has aloe to help redness, and I spritz it on my face after washing it and it feels so refreshing and hydrating.
I hope you all have a great weekend! Happy Friday, friends!
Rafael and I talk about this so often!
we stayed in an Airbnb in Colorado of an old couple and was so cute and cozy and warm.. full of their life stories and colors, music instruments, books and most important toys for kids! 😊