Minimalism sucks

Hello readers, for those who don’t know me I was your very modest Arts editor for two years at Felix, but since they weren’t paying me I decided to step down. For those few people – and from my memory it was very few – who read my articles, you may have appreciated my blunt yet self-proclaimed witty remarks when it came to art. Thus I unfortunately intend to continue in a similar vein but this time I shall apply it to the everyday.

My first offensive missive shall be on corporate minimalism. Corporate minimalism is the current 21^st century trend that reminds you that the straight-white-man (such as myself) is still very much in charge when it comes to business. Gone are the days when companies strove to create a lasting image with a hint of pizzazz and ambiguity. Instead we are subjected to glorified nothingness in attempt to forcefully modernise the most basic of living essentials, such as exclusive wine bars and artisan cafes, all to create that clean, clinical look.

The best example to look at is the coffee shop. A delight for many is walking into one’s favourite coffee shop. Let’s take Caffe Nero: you walk in to a lovely wood panelled cafe with books adorning each wall, maybe a lovely little picture set, and subtle, warm lighting that makes you feel like your next cup of coffee is one that’s going to make you stay a while (it is so bitter that you do not want to drink it too quickly), maybe start that book you’ve been reading in public for three weeks, or that essay that’s due in two days time. Compare that with the minimalist behemoth that’s taken over the London coffee scene: Blank Street Coffee. You walk in and you are unsure whether you’ve stepped into a coffee shop or a new-wave dermatology clinic, the lettering is in a corporate sans serif typeface that screams Adobe rather than arabica, and with all of that you half expect them to say, “Would you like that in a cup or intravenously?”

Of course it’s not just coffee shops. If you were to take a walk down Camden High Street all you will see is row upon row of shops with black and white signs that have a single brand name in Arial type in lettering that say something along the lines of “Arise,” “Zenyth,” (sic) or “Plebs”. What these shops sell you have no idea. Their sparse, minimal nature gives you nothing to elucidate what they sell either. Does Plebs sell coffee? Handbags made of hemp? Maybe shoes? (Each shoe sold separately). You do not know. Yet now every corporation has gone down the route of reducing their formally iconic logos into nonsensical abstract Rothkos that make Egyptian hieroglyphics look comprehensible.

But these types of shops and brand design have created a generation of “blank supporters” who trot down the street in the colour palette of “sad beige baby,” wearing long oatmeal coats and Burberry scarves – the so-called “yummy mummy clean aesthetic”. They display wheat-coloured paperback copies of Plath’s The Bell Jar in their jeans backpockets – will they choose the corporate finance fig or the nepotistic marketing one? It is light academia without the academia. These same people walk through Camden and try to pass it off as bohemian whereas if they were really bohemian they’d be lying face down in an opium den which, for reference, would be decorated most opulently.

This whole scheme of “neutral espresso tones,” stupid shop fronts, and meaningless photographable opportunities is playing into corporations’ hands, who feel that by making things look aesthetically pleasing means they can hike up prices; your coffee, which in any other part of the world would be £2, is now £4. You’re now paying for the experience to have everything look like…nothing. As a popular internet meme once said, “Minimalism is just a scam by big small to sell more less.”