We are burrowed deep within cozy season on social media. It surrounds us in clouds of neutral-toned knits, it shrouds us in the steam of freshly-brewed hot drinks. Our socks encase our ankles with soulful seasonal droopiness. Our beanies threaten to envelop our entire heads in their snuggly embrace. We have a candle burning, we have a new book ready to crack. We are not getting up from this spot.
This is so spot on, it takes my breath away: What if our obsession with coziness has grown in step with our growing feeling of collective precariousness -- economic, environmental, social?
It's like I desperately want to embrace this season, but why??? I don't like hot chocolate. I am a Vietnamese refugee who grew up in Florida, and actually find this weather antithetical to my whole tropical existence. A Pendleton blanket is not going to solve all my problems.
But what's the alternative, really? Fight the season, tooth and nail? Be called a Grinch? I am reminded of reading Wintering by Katherine May last year, and finding hope in the idea of settling into the hardness of this season, the way it challenges me, the way it will always challenge me. And if I acknowledge the real difficulty there, then I can start to address it individually and collectively.
This is fantastic, so spot on. Somewhat related, I read this article last year and it helped me reframe my approach to MN winter. It felt like a more practical and realistic approach to Hygge, one that focuses on preparation for the season and a mindset shifts during the cold months of the year.
I don’t think it’s as easy as saying, don’t feel depressed when the reality is, winter reduces our Vitamin D and contributes to depression, but it is a reminder that stepping outside, among other suggestions, during winter can reverse those effects and be refreshing mentally and physically refreshing.
I also think one’s ability to be cozy, hyyge, or appreciative of winter relies heavily on wealth. I used to cheap out on winter things because I didn’t want to spend 200+ dollars on the good gear. But once I did, I realized how life changing it was to have a heavy coat, good gloves and solid boots. In many ways, things that are a luxury for many. My house is heated, I can buy all the fixings for soup, and as many candles as I want to contribute to my attempt at coziness. But without that disposable income, winter would feel like an even bigger burden and source of stress as well as life or death if I can’t stay properly warm. I can shift my mindset all I want, but if I can’t afford the resources to do so, no mental shift will keep me warm and cozy enough to survive winter.
I guess living in the Midwest, I see cozy as more than just a feeling but an actual survival instinct to survive the winter mentally and physically. So many of the ways we indicate coziness are very white. As a black prison, I rarely saw winter as being my season. It always felt like it was a time of the year only white people could only appreciate. I don’t ski, snowboard, ice fish, etc, so what is winter for me if just a major hassle. Then there are the reflections of coziness on social media. So often they don’t feature POC or highlight our own cozy traditions. So again, who gets to be cozy in all this? Having time to be, feel and think of coziness is really a luxury. One that can only be felt if you feel you truly belong in a space and have all your most basic needs met.
It’s a valid critique of Brené Brown, but it feels a bit oversimplified to imply that white women do not have entire social structures projecting shame on them, considering how many white women are in evangelical Christian churches (and evangelical Christianity’s influence on the broader culture) plus just garden-variety patriarchy.
So fascinating! I live a cold northeastern US climate and as the days get darker my existential depression tends to loom larger. When the "hygge" concept started surfacing in the US a few years ago, at first I felt relieved: so other people find this time of year hard and lonely?? Great, I'm not alone!
But at the same time, it seems to have quickly been translated into a capitalistic, buy-more-sweaters-and-mugs season by brands and influencers. I'm really intrigued by the idea of "cozyness" being a sideways attempt at combatting loneliness and a lack of social & economic support systems. It seems to stay in line with American individualism: "Do you struggle when it's dark and cold? You can figure it out ALL BY YOURSELF without needing any one else! Just fucking EMBRACE IT and do it RIGHT!" Never mind that you lost your job or maybe your home is, in fact, cold; or that you might not have health insurance or access to mental health services.
Interesting sharp right turn to Brene Brown. Her books have never really resonated with me (and I'm a white, middle class woman). I feel somewhat similarly about Glennon Doyle (I know they are very different in their work backgrounds since Brown is a professor and Doyle is a blogger-turned-memoirist/influencer).
About ten years ago I went to Denmark, learned about hygge, and got so obsessed with it that I decided to study danish. I was in urban planning school at the time and the idea of focusing on *inside* instead of *out there* felt so novel and contrarian I was totally seduced. I took this idea with me and decided to open a shop rather than zone for commercial districts, because it seemed to me that more cultural work was being done behind the doors than on the sidewalk. And oh the letterboards. Our first season open, the winter of trump’s inauguration, I knew I wanted hygge to be our theme. And then everyone did! Hygge was everywhere and I was like what???? And the mind numbing escapist potential of the concept became abundantly clear. We realized our goal was the left hand of your diagram, and ended up framing it as a question: “how can hygge be part of our resistance?” Not “living intentionally,” but surviving communally. This is hard to convey in consumer culture, as you said. A Canadian woolen blanket can only go so far. But making protest signs with candles lit around sun and hosting people for drop in grief tea on Inauguration Day helped clarify the intention. I appreciate very much your analysis of cozy here and offer my experience to amplify your analysis, especially the erotics of it (isn’t part of the mom cozy aesthetic having a moment in your home where the kids are not? Kids suck at cozy aesthetics.)
I loved this piece and especially appreciate your critique of Brene Brown--you articulating the difference between social psychologists and sociologists was very helpful! While I agree with what Tiffany says about evangelical Christianity/white women, your point about "out there/in here" and the privilege inherent in that framing is something I wish Brown would discuss more. Your last paragraph also made me think of the language parallels between ~*cozy season*~ and the "sit with your discomfort" narrative re: white people and anti-racism work. Thank you for writing this!
I'm reading "Madhouse at the End of the Earth" about a Belgian ship that got stuck in Antarctica around the turn of the century and I *just* got to the part where they began their monthslong night and apparently shit is about to get intense. It's strangely reassuring to me as I start to dread winter and realize that winter depression is not a baby problem, it's a human problem, and I probably can't shop my way out of it, although I'll still try.
I think I remember that you’re getting a doctorate? If I were on your committee, I would probably award it to you based on this piece. Good golly you’ve articulated so much of what I’m seeing and thinking through with a critical lens. Thanks for sharing this with the world.
As for the Brené Brown critique, I think it falls short, because it's based on a simply binary hypothesis of inside/outside that doesn't really hold up. Vulnerability is not something confined to the "inside" at all, in fact in Daring Greatly she explicitly talks about the public sphere, and it shows up in her work around leadership, management, etc. "I don’t need help with feeling like I belong, frankly. What I need help with, as a white woman, is making other people feel that way" has a whiff of white saviourism about it.
I am reflecting on this thoughtful article and the many insightful points. I wanted to mention that Brene Brown is a social worker, not a social psychologist. I bring that up because social workers are heavily trained in systems theory, whereas psychologists do tend to focus more on the individual and treatment. Systems theory training is what distinguishes social workers from other helping professions, in my experience. So Brene should be well aware of intersectionality, context, systemic oppression, injustice, etc. (and I think she is based on her podcasts; it just doesn't come through in her books as much).
Having not read Wind in the Willows (what am I doing with my life?), I can only assume you are right about Badger's house. A badger would be cozy, wouldn't they? Underground? My go-to fictional cozy aspiration is a Hobbit house, all rounded corners and wooden furniture and rugs and pipes (I don't smoke, wtf, but it works!) and tea.
And I want to repeat something said by Diana below, that the actual work of living with other people can make the "controlled" instagram coziness basically impossible to achieve. And then the times we are cozy - that moment before bedtime when my 1-year-old is actually not-moving for a moment and we are on the couch and there's a breath to be taken - that's the freaking best AND it's unmarketable/unsellable AND it lasts for only a moment AND we have the mortgage paid, the bills paid, food in our bellies, heat on, etc etc etc.
Very insightful points of view, thanks for writing! The whole "cozy" aesthetic makes me think of how "cottagecore" became a big thing during the pandemic, for similar reasons as what you describe -- a need to make a "safe place" where one can exercise control.
As to art-historical examples of coziness . . . what first comes to my mind is the genre of Dutch interior paintings from the 1650s; artists like Jan Vermeer were creating images that coincide with the "everything in its right place" ethos of "cursed" coziness. I don't know how art patrons at that time thought of those paintings, but from a 21st-century view they evoke feelings of excessively-ordered domesticity. And of course, there is always Thomas Kinkade.
Thank you. I'm glad somebody said this. I hate the way cozy and even Autumn is portrayed online. To me, cozy isnt perfect or commercial. It can be messy, and cluttered and disheveled. Because cozy means COMFORTABLE
This was great. I am a native of the American South and currently live in Florida so the "cozy" vibe has always seemed intriguing and aspirational while also kind of ridiculous to put in practice in a climate where the winter time tends to be mild and sunny.
I am so moved by your piece. I feel that yes, shame is the key way that stands in the way of connection but most of what we see as internalised shame is systemic injustice - and the effect of predominantly violent ways of the capitalist world… that we perceive as internal flaws that we shroud in shame as we push ourselves even harder to perform and fit in and succeed as the only antidote. I could not articulate what is wrong with Brenee take because of feels so right but rings so hollow and it is that - true vulnerability is denied to all those who are not high in power games…Where I found I can connect and where shame dissipates is gatherings where awareness of systemic injustices are made explicit…
This is so spot on, it takes my breath away: What if our obsession with coziness has grown in step with our growing feeling of collective precariousness -- economic, environmental, social?
It's like I desperately want to embrace this season, but why??? I don't like hot chocolate. I am a Vietnamese refugee who grew up in Florida, and actually find this weather antithetical to my whole tropical existence. A Pendleton blanket is not going to solve all my problems.
But what's the alternative, really? Fight the season, tooth and nail? Be called a Grinch? I am reminded of reading Wintering by Katherine May last year, and finding hope in the idea of settling into the hardness of this season, the way it challenges me, the way it will always challenge me. And if I acknowledge the real difficulty there, then I can start to address it individually and collectively.
This is fantastic, so spot on. Somewhat related, I read this article last year and it helped me reframe my approach to MN winter. It felt like a more practical and realistic approach to Hygge, one that focuses on preparation for the season and a mindset shifts during the cold months of the year.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/15/well/mind/Scandinavia-Norway-Winter-Mindset.amp.html
I don’t think it’s as easy as saying, don’t feel depressed when the reality is, winter reduces our Vitamin D and contributes to depression, but it is a reminder that stepping outside, among other suggestions, during winter can reverse those effects and be refreshing mentally and physically refreshing.
I also think one’s ability to be cozy, hyyge, or appreciative of winter relies heavily on wealth. I used to cheap out on winter things because I didn’t want to spend 200+ dollars on the good gear. But once I did, I realized how life changing it was to have a heavy coat, good gloves and solid boots. In many ways, things that are a luxury for many. My house is heated, I can buy all the fixings for soup, and as many candles as I want to contribute to my attempt at coziness. But without that disposable income, winter would feel like an even bigger burden and source of stress as well as life or death if I can’t stay properly warm. I can shift my mindset all I want, but if I can’t afford the resources to do so, no mental shift will keep me warm and cozy enough to survive winter.
I guess living in the Midwest, I see cozy as more than just a feeling but an actual survival instinct to survive the winter mentally and physically. So many of the ways we indicate coziness are very white. As a black prison, I rarely saw winter as being my season. It always felt like it was a time of the year only white people could only appreciate. I don’t ski, snowboard, ice fish, etc, so what is winter for me if just a major hassle. Then there are the reflections of coziness on social media. So often they don’t feature POC or highlight our own cozy traditions. So again, who gets to be cozy in all this? Having time to be, feel and think of coziness is really a luxury. One that can only be felt if you feel you truly belong in a space and have all your most basic needs met.
It’s a valid critique of Brené Brown, but it feels a bit oversimplified to imply that white women do not have entire social structures projecting shame on them, considering how many white women are in evangelical Christian churches (and evangelical Christianity’s influence on the broader culture) plus just garden-variety patriarchy.
So fascinating! I live a cold northeastern US climate and as the days get darker my existential depression tends to loom larger. When the "hygge" concept started surfacing in the US a few years ago, at first I felt relieved: so other people find this time of year hard and lonely?? Great, I'm not alone!
But at the same time, it seems to have quickly been translated into a capitalistic, buy-more-sweaters-and-mugs season by brands and influencers. I'm really intrigued by the idea of "cozyness" being a sideways attempt at combatting loneliness and a lack of social & economic support systems. It seems to stay in line with American individualism: "Do you struggle when it's dark and cold? You can figure it out ALL BY YOURSELF without needing any one else! Just fucking EMBRACE IT and do it RIGHT!" Never mind that you lost your job or maybe your home is, in fact, cold; or that you might not have health insurance or access to mental health services.
Interesting sharp right turn to Brene Brown. Her books have never really resonated with me (and I'm a white, middle class woman). I feel somewhat similarly about Glennon Doyle (I know they are very different in their work backgrounds since Brown is a professor and Doyle is a blogger-turned-memoirist/influencer).
About ten years ago I went to Denmark, learned about hygge, and got so obsessed with it that I decided to study danish. I was in urban planning school at the time and the idea of focusing on *inside* instead of *out there* felt so novel and contrarian I was totally seduced. I took this idea with me and decided to open a shop rather than zone for commercial districts, because it seemed to me that more cultural work was being done behind the doors than on the sidewalk. And oh the letterboards. Our first season open, the winter of trump’s inauguration, I knew I wanted hygge to be our theme. And then everyone did! Hygge was everywhere and I was like what???? And the mind numbing escapist potential of the concept became abundantly clear. We realized our goal was the left hand of your diagram, and ended up framing it as a question: “how can hygge be part of our resistance?” Not “living intentionally,” but surviving communally. This is hard to convey in consumer culture, as you said. A Canadian woolen blanket can only go so far. But making protest signs with candles lit around sun and hosting people for drop in grief tea on Inauguration Day helped clarify the intention. I appreciate very much your analysis of cozy here and offer my experience to amplify your analysis, especially the erotics of it (isn’t part of the mom cozy aesthetic having a moment in your home where the kids are not? Kids suck at cozy aesthetics.)
I loved this piece and especially appreciate your critique of Brene Brown--you articulating the difference between social psychologists and sociologists was very helpful! While I agree with what Tiffany says about evangelical Christianity/white women, your point about "out there/in here" and the privilege inherent in that framing is something I wish Brown would discuss more. Your last paragraph also made me think of the language parallels between ~*cozy season*~ and the "sit with your discomfort" narrative re: white people and anti-racism work. Thank you for writing this!
I'm reading "Madhouse at the End of the Earth" about a Belgian ship that got stuck in Antarctica around the turn of the century and I *just* got to the part where they began their monthslong night and apparently shit is about to get intense. It's strangely reassuring to me as I start to dread winter and realize that winter depression is not a baby problem, it's a human problem, and I probably can't shop my way out of it, although I'll still try.
I think I remember that you’re getting a doctorate? If I were on your committee, I would probably award it to you based on this piece. Good golly you’ve articulated so much of what I’m seeing and thinking through with a critical lens. Thanks for sharing this with the world.
This was great! Here's an interesting 2016 piece on the connection of hygge with manufactured British notions of coziness harking back to nationalist tropes of tradition and nostalgia. https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/nov/22/hygge-conspiracy-denmark-cosiness-trend.
As for the Brené Brown critique, I think it falls short, because it's based on a simply binary hypothesis of inside/outside that doesn't really hold up. Vulnerability is not something confined to the "inside" at all, in fact in Daring Greatly she explicitly talks about the public sphere, and it shows up in her work around leadership, management, etc. "I don’t need help with feeling like I belong, frankly. What I need help with, as a white woman, is making other people feel that way" has a whiff of white saviourism about it.
I am reflecting on this thoughtful article and the many insightful points. I wanted to mention that Brene Brown is a social worker, not a social psychologist. I bring that up because social workers are heavily trained in systems theory, whereas psychologists do tend to focus more on the individual and treatment. Systems theory training is what distinguishes social workers from other helping professions, in my experience. So Brene should be well aware of intersectionality, context, systemic oppression, injustice, etc. (and I think she is based on her podcasts; it just doesn't come through in her books as much).
Having not read Wind in the Willows (what am I doing with my life?), I can only assume you are right about Badger's house. A badger would be cozy, wouldn't they? Underground? My go-to fictional cozy aspiration is a Hobbit house, all rounded corners and wooden furniture and rugs and pipes (I don't smoke, wtf, but it works!) and tea.
And I want to repeat something said by Diana below, that the actual work of living with other people can make the "controlled" instagram coziness basically impossible to achieve. And then the times we are cozy - that moment before bedtime when my 1-year-old is actually not-moving for a moment and we are on the couch and there's a breath to be taken - that's the freaking best AND it's unmarketable/unsellable AND it lasts for only a moment AND we have the mortgage paid, the bills paid, food in our bellies, heat on, etc etc etc.
The line about the soup absolutely SLAYED me. Haha. What a great read, Kathryn! Can’t wait for more.
Very insightful points of view, thanks for writing! The whole "cozy" aesthetic makes me think of how "cottagecore" became a big thing during the pandemic, for similar reasons as what you describe -- a need to make a "safe place" where one can exercise control.
As to art-historical examples of coziness . . . what first comes to my mind is the genre of Dutch interior paintings from the 1650s; artists like Jan Vermeer were creating images that coincide with the "everything in its right place" ethos of "cursed" coziness. I don't know how art patrons at that time thought of those paintings, but from a 21st-century view they evoke feelings of excessively-ordered domesticity. And of course, there is always Thomas Kinkade.
Thank you. I'm glad somebody said this. I hate the way cozy and even Autumn is portrayed online. To me, cozy isnt perfect or commercial. It can be messy, and cluttered and disheveled. Because cozy means COMFORTABLE
This was great. I am a native of the American South and currently live in Florida so the "cozy" vibe has always seemed intriguing and aspirational while also kind of ridiculous to put in practice in a climate where the winter time tends to be mild and sunny.
I am so moved by your piece. I feel that yes, shame is the key way that stands in the way of connection but most of what we see as internalised shame is systemic injustice - and the effect of predominantly violent ways of the capitalist world… that we perceive as internal flaws that we shroud in shame as we push ourselves even harder to perform and fit in and succeed as the only antidote. I could not articulate what is wrong with Brenee take because of feels so right but rings so hollow and it is that - true vulnerability is denied to all those who are not high in power games…Where I found I can connect and where shame dissipates is gatherings where awareness of systemic injustices are made explicit…