Editor in Chief- Grace LaTourelle

With a world that seems to be approaching complete chaos and ruin, I don’t know a single person who isn’t looking for a little bit of joy to cling to. We’re looking for a silver lining, a brightside, a glimmer of hope, and whatever other turn of phrase for a positive moment you prefer. That’s why the whimsy-maxxing trend has taken off so exponentially. However, the actions it is currently promoting will keep us in this cycle of doom and despair instead of liberating us like we had so hoped it would. 

Whimsy-maxxing as I, and not the Miriam-Webster dictionary (because I am whimsical and refuse to reuse overdone writing tropes), define it is “a trend that promotes beautify-ing and quirk-ifying everyday activities and objects, usually with bright colors, glitter, rhinestones, silliness, and general Fancy Nancy-esque glamor.” It aims at bringing you out of the heaviness of work and life through added magic and charisma. And in its current form, it is broadly just another facet of rampant consumerism.

Much of what is currently being shown on social media by whimsical influencers includes: bejeweling your skincare, sticking googly eyes on your phone, adding sprinkles to your lattes, and the worst of all, buying a whole new wardrobe. A quick exploration of #whimsy on Instagram features posts about buying patterned tights, buying large sheets of gemstones, buying charms for your fifth and sixth purses, buying trinkets for your shelves, buying a new set of nails, buying, buying, buying, and buying. 

Now, I am not the first to criticize this trend as being largely capitalistic. Many people on social media have started to propose alternative whimsical activities that don’t require any spending. However, despite this, at least in my own life, the word whimsy is ruined. It’s no longer associated with the magic I felt setting up my summer fairy garden as a child, complete with moss and petunias. Now, it’s a pit in my stomach and a reminder of all of the things I’ll never be or have. 

I believe that when a word or trend blows up on social media and becomes pervasive, even when creators are encouraging more of a “reduce, reuse, recycle” manner of engagement, it has already become too inextricably linked to overconsumption that there is no hope of salvaging it. When I think of whimsy, I shouldn’t first think of my iPhone, a vessel that repurposed this word in my vocabulary, made to be broken in a couple years, created with materials generated from highly exploitative practices. My phone, the true pinnacle of overconsumption that holds me hostage in cycles of doomscrolling or being overly productive and constantly available to a fault, telling me how to be more whimsical? How ridiculous. 

Am I being too harsh? Maybe. But I think that what we really mean when we say words like ‘whimsy’ or ‘chic,’ is “this is something that brings me joy and hope and comfort, something that I want to hold onto.” It’s like the sun on my face and shoulders on an otherwise chilly morning. Whimsy isn’t more microplastic-y glitter, but rather noticing the natural glitter of sunlight shimmering on the windswept surface of a river. I believe we’ve almost got it— we’re almost there— but we’re never going to be truly whimsical or liberated or joyful unless we put down our phones, put down the microtrends, and engage with nature and each other more.

Maybe I am whimsical. I drink most of my coffee out of recycled pasta sauce jars. I have a host of plants lining my windowsill. My room is decorated like I live in the forest, my car has flower and mushroom magnets all over it, and virtually all of my belongings are coated in stickers. But maybe I’m not whimsical. Maybe I’m just a woman in the world who has her likes and dislikes which inform the way she exists in space. Maybe I don’t need to be whimsy-maxxing, or chic, or brat, or gorpcore, or have a tomato girl summer, or granola girl aesthetic, or clean girl aesthetic. I’m just me and you’re just you and we exist in a world that tells us to buy more to reveal our true identities and learn something about ourselves. But maybe the way to learn who you really are is to look up at the stars one night or take a walk in the arb, and realize that you and nature and everyone else can never be separated from one another. That is whimsy, my friends, to know and act like you are star dust, a part of something so much bigger than a digital reality. 

My suggestions for when you need some joy and whimsy: 

• Propagate plants (bonus points for stealing cuttings from your friends’ plants) 
• Walk barefoot on different types of surfaces
• Say hi to the campus squirrels, they like it
• Write poems in between sets at the gym 
• Host a potluck dinner and invite someone you don’t know very well yet 
• Figure out your own signature greeting (I like a good peace sign) 
• Lay down in the grass in the middle of campus
• Collect cicada exoskeletons 
• Learn all the words to your best friend’s favorite song and sing it with them
• Make a zine
• Crop your shirt or cut the neckline off (use the leftover fabric scraps to make bracelets/anklets) 
• Eat one carrot every single day for a month (I do this and call it my daily carrot) 
• Perfect a signature doodle for when you’re bored in class