I’ll admit that when it comes to outfitting my future kid’s wardrobe and toy bucket, this beigification is hard to resist! My life is about to transform, but maybe I can avoid some of the discomfort that comes with it by banning vibrant, plastic colors in favor of beechwood blocks and cream onesies. Maybe that’s part of the appeal of beige. If I’m honest with myself, though, it’s a delusional way to cope with change.
The world is actually, literally on fire, and I think we are trying to drown it out with beige. Is the beigification of the 2020s an effect of late-stage capitalism? Is it a last-ditch coping mechanism to mask our despair? I’m not trying to sound like a conspiracy theorist here, but I do worry for our collective sanity. Because where is the FUN? I’m not saying we need to revert to all-out Y2K, 2000s Tuscan (God help us) or the whimsigothic ’90s…although, I’m nostalgic enough that wouldn’t hate the latter. But where do we go from here?
I don’t have the influence to singlehandedly put a stop to our drab proclivities, and I’m sure there will always be some beige trend lurking in the wings. After all, it’s popular because it’s easy to like. But trends aren’t permanent, and they follow patterns. Boomers and early Gen X might have beigified away the harvest gold and avocado that dominated the ’70s, but if millennials are lucky, Gen Z’s love for chaos and clutter will seep in, replacing whatever Blank Canvas Beige we’ve deemed the color of the year with something exuberant. Less Straight Jacket Cream, more Obnoxious Orange!
And about that sad beige baby, because I know you’re worried too: There’s a silver lining. Babies grow up, and they don’t come with a guarantee that they’ll comply with their parents’ beige agenda. (Mine included.)