Check your ingredients

What NOT to buy for a beautiful interior life

During a recent weekend visiting with friends, we laughed at ourselves for constantly reading the ingredient labels on our food—a habit I see growing in our culture today as people become more conscious of nutrition and healing. Before we buy the snack or eat it, we survey that fine print list, hoping it’s in recognizable English and short. Sometimes, we ignore the little red flags and eat the chips anyways, and other times, we feel a sense of freedom as we replace the bag on the shelf.

At the center of this dynamic is a belief in what is good for our bodies, and that we are worthy of that good. In the same way, we are worthy of protecting ourselves from harm.

The interior life presents a similar opportunity to grow in that belief. To surround ourselves with beauty, we have to prioritize beautiful things. We also need to be willing to say ‘no.’

Similar to nutrition, this starts with checking ingredients. As I’ve learned from talented designers (at a distance) over the years and grown in awareness of my interior environment, I’ve created a loose list in my mind of materials and products I try not to go for. They may give the appearance of aesthetic value, but something always feels amiss—likely because appearance is the extent of their offer.

I’m grateful that the list is rather short. Here it is:

1. Plastic: Everywhere, unfortunately. I find the quality of this material to be one dimensional, and its frequency is discordant with the human soul. The fact that it is not meant to age also makes me nervous, as I think truly beautiful things get better with time.

   1. Storage/containers

   2. Artificial plants and foliage

   3. Furniture

   4. Decor

   5. Toys

   6. Clothing

2. Manufactured wood: Furniture made of fake wood shows its true colors with the first chip.

   1. Mostly furniture

   2. Baskets/storage

3. Things made in an unethical situation: Price can sometimes be an indicator; I tend to think anything valuable (in terms of what it provides) but very cheap is likely coming from an unethical place. A piece might be aesthetically beautiful, but if its origins are corrupt and prey on the vulnerable, we should pause before purchasing.

   1. Furniture

   2. Decor

   3. Clothing

These parameters may seem rigid and unrealistic, and I admit to some exceptions, but they have become a helpful guide. Almost miraculously, I find that a space is enhanced simply by removing these elements or just reducing them.

That’s because their alternatives, on the other hand, resonate with the whole of who we are as persons. What we are left with is solid wood, natural fibers, live plants and flowers, handmade, and antique pieces, and these harmonize with our physical experience.

However, one last critique might arise out of concern for durability within family life—a belief that it’s just not realistic to not have these kinds of things in our homes and lives. Funnily enough, these questions come up about food too. But I invite us to question this assumption and notice that one industry or another may be behind it.

For generations, families with children survived with mostly natural and naturally-made things—linens made down the street, furniture from a few miles away, toys made by your grandfather or by yourself, and passed down as heirlooms. I’ve written elsewhere about the particular value of antiques in this regard. Our challenge today is finding pieces that are made well enough to stand the test of life and time, but we are worthy of that effort (and so are our families).

Before buying something we need, let’s check for these ingredients—plastic, fake wood, unrealistically cheap—and then choose the discipline to look for what may take more time or more work or more money to find. Many of us are willing to prioritize quality food for our physical health; tending to beauty supports the health of our souls.