Bookshelf Wealth: How TikTok Ruins Everything

A few weeks ago, my husband sent me a link to a Homes & Gardens article and told me the good news: our house is finally trendy. You see, the newest trend making the TikTok round is called “bookshelf wealth” which is everything you probably imagine from that title: maximalism with books.

If you’ve been around for a while, you probably know what my house looks like (and has looked like for more than a decade):

So, you see, my husband wasn’t kidding. Our house is trendy. The first thing I thought about as he was telling me about it was that one time, a few years ago, when someone who saw a picture of our living room called it “old fashioned”. Little did they know!

As I read the article my husband sent me, I felt rage build up inside me. Before I let it all out here, let’s take a moment to appreciate this passage; it resonated with me deeply, and it’s important context for the rest of the discussion.

“Books serve as windows into one’s soul, revealing a person’s identity and interests. They carry the power of evoking specific places and hold memories of where they were read. Some books become inseparable, akin to old lovers with whom you’ve shared countless moments. The physicality of books, in an era dominated by digital media, adds a homely, tangible, and nostalgic element to decorating. They are not just objects; they are vessels of personal history, making them a perennially significant and cherished component in interior design trends.”

The article got my hackles up from its subtitle, and things didn’t improve much from there. This quote, in particular, encapsulates everything I find enraging about it:

“The ‘tyranny’ of minimalism has perhaps led us to put these things away, and this new ‘trend’ has perhaps given us permission to liberate these possessions and proudly showcase them. Critics of the trend have said it encourages overconsumption but my tip is to start with what you’ve got, however modest, and transform your space into a reflection of your unique journey. And if you find you want more books to read you know where to come.”

The critics are goddamn right!!!

Ahem.

I am sad whenever I hear people worry that their clothes are “dated”. I am never not convinced that the concept of “outdatedness” is, above all, capitalist consumerist propaganda designed to make us feel inadequate and in need of stuff to compensate. But I also understand that personal appearance has a social dimension. People are judged on how they present themselves in public, and clothes play a role in that. I understand why people are concerned about living up to certain standards or expectations. (Though I still believe that the average person, including anyone whose opinion has a direct and quantifiable impact on our livelihood, isn’t sufficiently conversant with every fashion micro-trend to form adverse opinions about us based on the fact that we’re wearing last year’s ankle booties. YMMV) So, whether I share it or not, I get the preoccupation with fashion trends. Interior design is a whole other story.

For those of us fortunate enough to have one, a home is the only truly private space, a place where we can exist without fear of judgment, fully and wholly ourselves. The notion that we need “permission” to display things that are meaningful to us is so absurd to me, it leaves me barely coherent. It’s positively Orwellian. It is the curse of social media’s flattening of aesthetic; when everyone and everything looks the same everywhere all the time, anything even slightly different begins to look and feel transgressive — like it needs permission and/or justification.

You don’t need permission to have a minimalist home. You do not need permission to have a a maximalist home. Neither one is good or bad, or better than the other. You shouldn’t feel constrained to make your choice based on what everyone else is doing. They don’t live in your house.

The other thing that enrages me about the “bookshelf wealth” trend at a more general level is something the article does touch on. This isn’t just an aesthetic; it’s a way of living, which then creates an aesthetic. It’s a certain set of values, a mindset. It’s not something you can do and then not do as trends come and go. My book collection — along with every other collection in my house — represents a decades-long labour of love. It’s the story of my and my family’s life; each piece reflects something of us — our hobbies, special moments, travels, family traditions. You can’t buy a life in one fell swoop. You build it, piece by piece.

The article’s suggestion that “now’s the time to take out all those books and things you’ve been hiding in shame” is utter nonsense. Nobody who actually cares about and has collected these things over the years is keeping them in a secret stash somewhere. Why would they? Who does that when they love and value something? This whole angle is a way to pay lip service to the notion of authenticity and intentionality, when in fact all articles like this are doing is promoting consumption, period. Mindless consumption. If you don’t value something unless somebody tells you it’s trendy, buying it is the definition of mindless consumption.

And books? Damn. Books deserve better. Not to mention our trees.