Minimalism And The Art Of Selling

I think a lot about becoming a Minimalist. It's hard not to as I scroll through the sparsely composed images on my Instagram feed and am constantly (but gently - minimalists all seem so gentle) reminded of the joys of living with less by all the minimalist themed pages I've liked on Facebook.  

As a visual style employed by creative marketers, Minimalism has reached full blown trend status. It sells us on the promise of a uncluttered life free from overwhelm - an antidote to the frenetic, complex reality we inhabit. When it comes to brand messaging there's great power in communicating simplicity, ease, and calm. But can those of us involved in the production or sale of things ever credibly subscribe to a minimalist ethos or promote a minimalist style?

When I owned my shop I was constantly buying, arranging, photographing, cleaning, and talking about things. Showroom was (and still is!) full of beautiful, special items made by interesting, wholehearted people. I loved collecting those things - and their stories - together for customers delight to in. The way I chose and displayed them felt like a reflection of something inside me; for me curation is an essential act that humanises our existence - I'm very fortunate that I continue to enact this kind of self-actualisation in my work. 

Minimalism, by contrast, seems to connote an almost brutal pairing back of belongings. It urges us to forego the much loved but not strictly necessary frivolities in pursuit of a more aesthetic lifestyle. 

Of course there's a lot to be said in favour of living frugally, eschewing imprudent excess, and jettisoning meaningless clutter. But I would argue that a life lived without the joy that some superfluous belongings bring isn't really being lived to its fullest. I'm more interested in exploring what things feel essential to my happiness and finding ways to incorporate them into daily life. And not just because that perspective is more handily marketable. 

Essentialism, then, is Minimalism's softer, more sympathetic sibling. It's not about how little we can live with, but about deciding what we simply don't want to live without. Essentialism sings the praises both of frugality and indulgence, in balanced measure. 

Everyone's must haves will be different, so deciding what is and isn't Essential to up to us. This process turns tangible objects into relics of our life's story. Things are given meaning by the memories, and sentiments they represent and evoke. 

What is Essential - and business owners should think about this too when communicating their value to customers - isn't only about tangible objects. It's also about the esoteric feelings of connection we derive from them. When chosen well, our belongings foster a sense of belonging to something larger than ourselves and quench a deep seated thirst for community. 

So by all means, take inspiration from the current cultural appetite for Minimalism in your business' visual content and sales copy if aligning with this perspective will help you more effectively communicate your values and define who you exist to serve. If you think deeply and ask questions about what qualifies as Essential in your customers' lives, you'll hold the key to tailoring your offerings so the people you choose  to serve feel uplifted and, crucially, understood by you. That's a beautiful thing in an all-too generic world - such is the power of curation.