Let us first begin with a quick story that has absolutely nothing to do with the subject matter of this post, because sure.
By now, I think we are all aware that I hover somewhere on the “holy shit, how are you still alive” end of the clumsiness spectrum (see evidence here, here, here, and here). A few days ago, however, I reached Apex Level Disastrousness, in the form of a Spring Break trip to the desert during which I managed to break 1) my cell phone, 2) my son’s laptop screen, 3) the glass top of a table in our AirBnB that I shattered by tripping and falling directly on top of it (I’m fine, and obviously I paid for the table, and no it wasn’t cheap), 4) my left index finger, perhaps not literally, but I burned it on a pan so badly that I look forward to a very large, very glamorous scar that will almost certainly last for the remainder of my days.
The phone, of course, was the most critical issue at hand, because of course we have evolved to the point where we are completely non-functional without our phones. I had to ask people (!) in person (!!) how to navigate to the AT&T store to get a new phone, and when, upon arriving, I was told that I was welcome to ship my phone off to Apple and await a replacement that could take up to 5 business days (no), I ended up saying fuck it, and upgrading to the newest version – the iPhone 12 ProMax – for basically the same cost as the insurance deductible.
Which sounds like a fairly happy resolution, but then I broke that phone, too.
Or…I don’t know. Maybe it just broke? By itself? I wasn’t doing anything special with it, but now the screen won’t work at all (not even with a hard reset), which sucks generally, and sucks extra when your alarm is set too early and you can’t change it and then, when it goes off, you also can’t turn it off, so you are forced to listen to your alarm forever and ever or until either your phone or you dies.
On the plus side, you know what I did last night, because I didn’t have a phone next to my bed? I went to sleep. At NINE, because even though I wanted to masochistically scroll through Instagram in search of accounts that would make me feel like a terrible parent/clothing-wearer/exerciser/self care-er/housekeeper, I literally could not. And then, when I woke up (too early; thanks, alarm!)? I drank some coffee. And read a few pages of a book.
It was nice.
The last story that I read on my news app before my phone gave up the ghost was about millennial decor – the muted pastels and brass light fixtures and boob pillows and succulents that started out feeling gorgeous and fresh, and now feel like every aisle in Target. (The feature Architectural Digest did on Mandy Moore’s place is as millennial as it gets.) Over the years, I have embraced the style wholeheartedly – I don’t have a boob pillow, but I do have lots and lots of Band-aid pink, gold, and ochre things in my house (and a fiddleleaf fig? You betcha!), but I’m starting to crave something…else (with the caveat that I very recently went on a tear of painting accent spots in my house various shades of mustard, the aforementioned pink, and emerald green). It’s just so ubiquitous – which makes sense, because it is indeed very pretty and calming, in addition to being very accessible thanks to the fact that every store and their mother sells all the essential pieces.
But the very ubiquity of this style means, inevitably, that it’s about to feel very dated.
So what’s next?
Allow me to introduce you to my new favorite word: Grand-millennial. (I KNOW. I love it too.) Essentially, what grand-milliennial decor refers to is a look that references the cozy, intricate fabrics and patterns that many of us remember from our childhood, without the whole “clutter” aspect (in other words: choose your pieces carefully; this is not about starting a collection of those creepy shrunken apple-head dolls). According to One Kings Lane, “Perhaps the best thing about grandmillennial style is that it’s approachable. It’s rooted in the warmth you felt in your grandmother’s home. It’s extra ruffles because the grandmillennials lived through the age of #YOLO and took it to heart. Why deny yourself the pleasure of a comfy sofa when you only live once?”
COSIGN. And it makes perfect sense that we’re seeing a return to a more homey, intimate vibe in our houses, given that…you know…we’ve been in them for a year. The best thing about the look, IMO, is that it isn’t all that far off from the style we’ve all been embracing for the past decade: it’s more about adding color and texture and pattern than it is about a total overhaul. It also means you have an excuse to troll yard sales and flea markets, which is always a wonderful thing.
Below are some more pics for inspiration, plus a few of my favorite grand-millennial finds from across the Internets.