Please Don’t Make Offline an Aesthetic
Over the past few years, we’ve started to wake up to the discomfort of modern life. We’re always busy, connected, overstimulated and overinformed - yet we’re absent from our own days. So when that realisation began to surface in open conversations about spending time offline, I felt so relieved and hopeful. I wasn’t alone in my feelings, and it seemed like we were finally going to assert our collective power and change the way we do things.
But as the idea of “offline living” becomes more visible, I’ve started to feel a bit uneasy…
Part of that unease comes from my own complicated relationship with social media. I know these platforms run on attention and consumption, and I don’t want to contribute to the very problem I’m trying to solve. But at the same time, online is where the problem is - and so sharing my writing here is the only way I know how to reach the right people at scale.
But it isn’t just my personal tension - the conversation itself has started to shift. Criticisms are emerging - arguing that offline is just an aesthetic, a trend, and another form of consumption. Part of me instinctively wants to defend the conversation, but another part of me understands the concern - because to be honest, I’ve felt the same doubt myself.
But there shouldn’t be anything controversial about wanting to spend more time in real life. So the way we talk about offline living matters. Because if we’re not careful, we risk turning an essential conversation into a fad that nobody can take seriously.
When inspiration slips into aesthetic…
The internet is, by nature, a visual space. It’s not a bad thing - beautiful images and videos are inspiring. They help us to visualise our goals and aspirations, and give shape to our hopes. I love aesthetic content exactly for this reason. I love scrolling Pinterest, creating my little mood boards and dreaming about future versions of my life.
But I’m cautious of the moment when the image starts to matter more than the intention behind it.
Offline living becomes an aesthetic when it starts to feel like you have to buy certain things to participate. When offline starts to feel costly or out of reach, it risks feeling unachievable.
Starting where you are
Of course, engaging with physical hobbies and media is fun and beneficial. I’ll be digging out my old CD player the next time I’m at my mum’s house, and you can find me doing jigsaws, buying stationery, and reading new books. But I don’t want anyone to feel like they need to overhaul their entire life, or spend money they don’t have to “do offline properly”.
I don’t have a garden, even though I’d love one. I don’t own a sewing machine, even though I’m curious about sewing. I’m just making the most of what I already have, and trying new things when I can afford to. None of this is essential, and none of it is a requirement.
You can start exactly where you are by putting down your phone. Let boredom surface, and allow your mind the space to wander without constant stimulation. That’s where the creativity lives - it’s not in consumption, but in presence.
Offline belongs to everyone
Offline living isn’t reserved for a certain aesthetic, home or lifestyle. It actually shouldn’t even be called “offline living”, it’s just living - real, ordinary, authentic life. Nothing else is required.
Looking for more offline inspiration? 🤗
Join the Cozy Life community, and I’ll send you a printable guide of 50 offline hobby ideas to help get you started! x
