Tattoos are always the best cope.

You have probably seen the term “quiet luxury” swirling around the internet. Some of its characteristics include grey walls and floors, clean lines, natural woods, and did I mention grey? According to author Wim Pauwels, the quiet luxury concept also emphasizes “decluttering,” “mindfulness,” and, “a desire for serenity amid turbulent times.” I’m not here to police anyone’s personal taste, but I’ll just say my idea of serene is not a grey compound with bare walls. Parents who enjoy this style will often have sad beige babies, curating their child’s toys to match the depressing philosophy of their home. I know if I was raised like this I would have detonated the vest by now. Lots of celebs have been driving this trend, Kim Kardashian being a huge culprit.

The world of modern architecture and design is stuck in the trap of functionality and simplicity, which is great if you’re running an ICU unit, but not a household. One oddly specific act of resistance to this trend is the explosion of ornate tattoos that look like doodles in Louis XV’s diary. This phenomenon shares similarities with the 2013-2016 style of tattoos—potted house plants, witchy jars full of fireflies, or a stick-and-poke kitchen chair done by your friend named Frankie. 

There has been a clear influx of tattoo artists offering these wrought iron designs that nod to the impeccable antique detailing from long ago—approximately years 1600-1900. Tattoo trends come and go but this one strikes me as particularly interesting, and I can’t help but make the connection to the death of maximalism. The rising popularity of these ornate art nouveau, baroque, and gothic tattoos indicates a collective longing for instilling refined detail back into design—not only of furniture in the private realm such as the home, but in permanent ink to skin tattoo art. My theory is that people (me included) seem to be mourning the loss of excess by injecting the imagery right into our flesh. Whether this is conscious or subconscious, clearly we are coping with some sort of panic.

These designs are heavily  inspired by motifs that come out of the 19th century, such as illustrated in A Handbook of Ornament. This glorious book was created by M. Franz Sales, and spoke on the symbology of buildings of status, both public and private. These wrought iron creations were seen all over European architecture. It is so refreshing that the mainstream is relishing in these designs, with all the giant houses that look like a Cheesecake Factory Headquarters popping up all over North America. Children’s book illustrations of the 19th century are also huge right now, especially fairytales. The art is ethereal, thoughtful, and really draws in modern tattoo-goers who are looking for something not lame. Tattoo artists are taking inspiration for their own designs too, creating unique compositions based on the mythical botanical forms of decorative wrought iron. 

One large contributing factor to the death of maximalism is that today’s version can be a sensory nightmare. We’ll call this phenomenon “fast decor.” Urban Outfitters pushes this aesthetic like they’re running the damn Navy, constantly releasing bizarre items like a shower curtain with tits all over them, and Sandy Liang rip-off bow rugs. It’s important to note here that these UO items can be styled in a tasteful way that doesn’t lend to gaudy cheapness, but unfortunately it is rare to see. Let’s not forget Lisa Says Gah, the brand that pretty much invented avant basic. Another notable offender is House of Sunny, responsible for the epidemic of that one green dress. Avant basic refers to a style that had Instagram users by the neck a few years ago—pastel walls, ungodly DIY foam mirrors, checkered carpets, cow print, and furniture that is literally unusable because it’s shaped like a dodecahedron. The key element that makes me shudder at avant basic is that the trend cycle, like countless others, has birthed a huge fast decor market. Artists sell their eccentric work to interior designers at rightfully high prices– but your average consumer would obviously rather take the easy route and order a dupe off Amazon. This leads to a charcuterie of cheap household items that have a short lifespan and are probably made giving you lead poisoning. The tiktokification of decorum is something that is likely here to stay, and this is causing people to oppose it by leaning in to authentic ornate designs. If you can’t fill your living space with vintage items due to valid reasons like affordability, scarcity, or lack of a vehicle, then getting them tattooed is another method of appreciating their splendour. 

Getting a tattoo to cope with some sort of inner turmoil is definitely not a new phenomenon, but it is riveting to bear witness to the culture reconciling with fugly millennial kitsch by embracing ye olde architecture. Who knows, maybe Kim K will have a midlife crisis and redesign her home in the style of a baroque mansion from the 18th century.  Remember kids, instead of dying your hair blue, you should probably just get a tattoo of a gothic metal gate instead.