How the 1 stole minimalism then threw it away

Minimalism, a movement based on intentional living, about removing the excess, focusing on what matters, and finding purpose through living simply. Or, a sleek curated way to flaunt your wealth and social status without seeming like you're trying too hard. A little over a decade ago, minimalism blew up. It showed up in TED Talks, magazines, brilliant documentaries, and of course, YouTube videos by unconventionally handsome creators. It went from a niche philosophy to a mainstream conversation. For many, minimalism was a practical response to overwhelm. A way to reclaim control, reduce distraction, and build a more meaningful life. But for others, minimalism became just another way to flex. A soft-spoken, logo-free, cashmere-wrapped way of saying, I'm better than you. This is the story of how the 1% took minimalism, made it expensive, aspirational, and exclusive, and then, when they were done with it, threw it away. This video is sponsored by Squarespace. I'll share more about why I use them for all my websites later. To really understand how we got here, you have to look at where we came from. In the decades leading up to the minimalist movement, status was not subtle. It was really hard to miss. The early 2000s were the peak of loud luxury. A time when the economy was booming, reality TV dominated most channels, and celebrity gossip was everywhere. This was the MTV Cribs era, where celebrity homes were designed not for comfort, but for shock value. Even though many of these homes weren't actually owned by the celebrities and just set up for filming. Oh, that wasn't your house? No, it's all lies. These were the life goals at the time. Brands became status symbols. Louis Vuitton monograms were stretched across handbags like billboards. Gucci belts doubled as a social currency. Chanel suits weren't just clothes. They were statements about your bank account and your place on the social ladder. For years, advertisers, media, and culture had sold us the idea that more stuff was the path to happiness, and it had never been easier to get it. Two-day shipping became the norm, fast fashion was on constant rotation, and Amazon offered millions of products at our fingertips. Then, the 2008 financial crisis hit, and for many of us, it forced a hard reset. I graduated in 2010, and I remember how uncertain everything felt. So many of us were having a hard time finding jobs, and didn't know if things would improve anytime soon. And so, a lot of us started to question what we wanted success to look like outside of the status quo. That's when minimalism re-emerged. A quiet rebellion against excess. A philosophy that said, less is more. No matter how much stuff we buy, and how many different fads that we try, we don't become a more whole person. We keep looking. This hunger never gets fulfilled. What I found with minimalism is that it's a way of saying, let's stop the madness. What started as a fringe idea on some early blogs quickly gained traction. There were best-selling books, viral YouTube videos, and decluttering challenges that swept across social media. But then, something unexpected happened. The wealthiest people in society, the same ones who once flaunted their status through excess, began embracing minimalism too. Only for them, it looked a little different. Everything in my house is really minimal. I find that there's so much chaos out in the world that when I come home, I want it to be just really quiet. I put out my three faves. I wanted my cars to kind of blend in. My house is gray, and I wanted them to kind of match the house. Now, I know what you're thinking. Matt, really? Are you really going to gatekeep minimalism? Now, who am I to say that Kim Kardashian's $60 million, 7,500-square-foot home isn't her own unique way of expressing minimalism, just at a much higher level of wealth than the rest of us? Sure, she doesn't own a tiny house, but does that really make her any less of a minimalist? I don't have a hoarding problem. You're just a minimalist. Yeah. And you don't have anything. Look, I think calling Kim Kardashian a minimalist is like calling the liver king a vegan. The only thing minimalist about her house is the aesthetic. If you strip away the neutral tones and the empty spaces, what you're left with isn't simplicity. It's aspirational luxury repackaged for a new era. Take her sitting room, which I guess is a room connected to her bedroom where she sits. It looks inconspicuous. A sofa and a couple armchairs. But don't be mistaken. This isn't IKEA furniture. These Ours Polaire couches, sell at auction for over half a million dollars each. And that's on the low end. This is so absurd that I feel like I need to repeat that number. This is a couch that costs over five hundred thousand dollars. What the **** is happening? Just from the short home tour I watched, where she only showed three of the many rooms in the house, I was able to spot two of these sofas and two armchairs. These aren't couches. They're status symbols. That's why other celebrities like Jennifer Aniston and Ellen DeGeneres also have them. While it might look similar, this isn't the minimalism that had us decluttering our closets and tossing our Little League trophies away. Because minimalism was never about creating the perfect empty room. It wasn't about beige couches or curated aesthetics. It was about rejecting the idea that your worth is tied to what you own or where you rank on the social ladder. Minimalism was a rebellion against consumerism. This is just another flavor of it. While it's a new trend to see the rich embrace minimalism, if that's what you want to call it, when it comes to fashion, it's been around for a really long time. As Paul Fussell wrote in Class, a guide through the American status system, as you move up the classes and the understatement principle begins to operate, the words gradually disappear, to be replaced in the middle and upper middle classes by mere emblems, like the Lacoste alligator. Once ascending further, you've left all such trademarks behind. You may correctly infer that you're entering the pueriles of the upper class itself. Old money families like the Vanderbilts, Rockefellers, and Kennedys have always lived by this understatement principle. But now this kind of expression of subtle yet very expensive style has become much more popular. And they have a name for it. Quiet luxury. The term quiet luxury first gained traction during Gwyneth Paltrow's 2023 ski trial. She walked into the courtroom day after day wearing very basic clothing, at least basic to the untrained eye. You see, she wasn't wearing Everlane or Uniqlo. She was wearing a $613 shirt from Plan C, $1,400 Prada boots, and $58,000 worth of jewelry from Foundry. To someone like me, and probably most people, it all looked pretty standard. I think Gwyneth's outfits are actually helping her with the jury. They're all very everyday. She's not screaming celebrity through her outfits, and that's because she's refraining from color. She's refraining from glamour. I couldn't tell her boots from a $100 pair at Steve Madden. Just like I couldn't tell Kim Kardashian's millions of dollars worth of sofas apart from a $2,000 version at CB2. But if you know, you know. And that's the point. During the trial, fashion reporters started decoding her plain wardrobe, revealing that this was actually a masterclass in quiet luxury. Status disguised as simplicity. Quiet luxury plays a fascinating psychological game. It signals power through restraint. It's a social filter. If you recognize it, you're in the club. If you don't, you're not. She's brought a ludicrously capacious bag. What? What's even in there? Flat shoes for the subway? Her lunch pail? The louder you flaunt your wealth, the more it suggests you're unsure of your status. The truly powerful don't need to announce it. They can afford to be quiet. That's what makes minimalism the perfect vehicle for this message. An empty room doesn't say, I couldn't afford more. It says, I had every option and I chose restraint. Yes, thank you. These couches are comfortable. They cost more than your house. That's where minimalism, when co-opted by the wealthy, stops being a philosophy and starts being performative. The irony is that through quiet luxury and minimalism, the elite pretend like they don't care, but their choices show their insecurities more than they realize. You don't spend $10,000 on a handbag Whether you're in the upper echelon or not, most of us fall into the same trap, buying things to signal that we belong, to show that we're keeping up. We rarely admit it, but so many of our choices, the clothes we wear, the cars we drive, the neighborhoods we live in, are shaped by where we think we fit on the social ladder, even if you call yourself a minimalist. For the upper class, it might be a Birkenbag. A step below that might be Saint Laurent. And then Michael Kors. Maybe a cheap replica from Walmart. It's fair to say that quality and price come into question whenever making a purchase, but I think we often place far more weight on what it says about us and how it's going to look to others. The trends across all classes are constantly moving, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that, just like every other trend before it, the aesthetic of minimalism is starting to fade and something new is already taking its place. The creator economy is moving really fast. Every month, new AI tools are making it easier to share your work and build your business. And my sponsor, Squarespace, has been doing really amazing things when it comes to creating website tools for creators and entrepreneurs. There are three big reasons why I and so many of my creator friends use them. First, it's incredibly easy to get started. Their new Blueprint AI tool allows you to build a website in minutes. Just answer a few prompts and you're good to go. Second, it's more than just a website builder. You can manage your domain, publish blog posts, track analytics, run an online store, and even book clients, all in one place. And finally, I trust it. When I launch a course and thousands of people visit my website, I need it to be reliable. And in 10 years of using Squarespace, I've never had my site go down, even during big traffic spikes. If you want to see why I trust Squarespace as a solo creator, then go to squarespace.com to start your free trial today. And when you're ready to launch, head over to squarespace.com slash mattdavella to get 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain. Thanks so much to Squarespace for sponsoring this video. By their nature, fads fade. And while elite minimalism or quiet luxury still has a firm grip on the elite class, the tides are already turning. We're starting to see the return of loud luxury again. Bold logos, statement pieces, and unapologetic flexes. And the brands, they're happy to move the goalposts again as long as it keeps people spending. Gucci, Balenciaga, and Versace are back in the spotlight, embraced by celebrities like Dua Lipa, Lil Nas X, and Rihanna, who are leaning hard into their maximalist branding. Opulence is in, subtlety is starting to feel forgettable. While the look might change, the underlying motivation stays the same. It's a system based almost entirely on comparison, on trying to keep up, on always needing more. This is the real danger behind these trends. Not the clothing, not the couches, but what they trigger in us. The endless urge to measure ourselves against others. To think we're behind because our lives don't look like someone else's. It's a trap and it doesn't lead to happiness. It only leads to anxiety, distraction, and discontent. Minimalism is the off-ramp from that cycle. It's about stepping outside the algorithm, the status race, the constant comparison, and asking yourself what actually matters to you. Because when you mistake the aesthetic for the philosophy, you're not escaping consumerism. You're just playing the same game in a different outfit.