How does one romanticise life?

I have seen this whole notion of romanticising your life online a lot lately. (maybe it is because these things have somehow found their way into my algorithm). But they are appearing everyone. In essays and articles, videos and quick little reels online. The reminder to not forget to look at life's little intricacies and give them the value they deserve. That’s how I see it now anyway.

I used to see these posts and things and wonder what the logistics of it would look like. Would I have to live in the countryside and let wind and rain tell me what it means to do so? Would I have to dress in beautiful dresses and pour loose-leaf tea into clay mugs? Read leather-bound books and drink coffee from porcelain? I can overthink if that is not evident in any of my writing. But I could never really wrap my head around this idea. Romanticise? What does that even mean? Do i write poetry from my imaginary porch and host beautifully plated dinners in my home? Is that what that means?

Let’s be clear, I love a good dinner party as much as the next girl, but I don’t own a dinner table, so if friends come over, we sit on the floor around the coffee table and eat. I’m Asian, so the floor is a good friend of mine. I have nice wine glasses I can break out for dinner, but my friends have kids, so the glassware needs to be saved for another occasion. Is it about the aesthetics? How do I live my life in photos? Captured in time? Is every frame of the movie of my life an aesthetic moment? Certainly not. I do not wear matching pyjamas much less matching underwear. I do not wear dresses around my house, I wear shorts and a big T-shirt. If someone walked into my house right now, there’s currently a giant pile of laundry sitting on my couch that started on my bed and there are dishes in the sink. Nothing aesthetic much less romantic about it.

So what does it mean? Romanticise your life? Here is what I think it means. To me at least.

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It means having wine in a crystal martini glass. Wearing your beautiful gold rings even in your pyjamas. Having your favourite ramen stocked in the house and ready to go for when you have a craving. An abundance of cheese in the fridge for when the craving hits. Salt and vinegar chips in the pantry. A fresh new manicure from your favourite nail salon.

To me, it means waking up in the morning, making a cup of coffee and taking it back to bed to read the morning away. It means deciding on your off day if you are going to work from your favourite local cafe or the beachside pavilion at your favourite beach 30 minutes away from home. It means sitting beachside and watching as life unfolds over the course of the afternoon, your current book forgotten in your lap as you sip on rapidly cooling coffee.

It’s about watching volleyball teams set up nets and start training. Watching as people go by on their daily dog walks. Watching minor influencers take aesthetic photos of their expensive outfit on the beach. Watching ladies who lunch. One with a giant plate of oysters, the other a whole pizza. Not a care in the world as they catch up on life and let the rest of the world move on around them. the business meeting behind them, the young man doing uni work next to them.

I think this is what it means. Taking in the little details of life and seeing them for the gems that they are. A family all dressed in the same style, clearly mum had an idea in mind for them this afternoon, neutral camels and preppy vests. Watching as their son helps their daughter when she takes a little tumble and her wild abandon as she runs for the beach. The little details like fancy sparkling water you managed to get from work drunk from a wine glass with no partner because you broke it the day you brought the pair home. Cold toes tucked under warm blankets. The heater going in the house because the cold from the rain is starting to seep in. One of your favourite movie series playing in the background as you write. Just a little bit of noise to keep you company.

Nothing inherently romantic about any of these things. When taken separately, they exist as just the mundane. But when you realise them for the value they bring, the little joys they spark, then they start to matter. They don’t mean anything to anyone who is not me, but to me, they mean the world. I think that is what it means to romanticise your life. To see it for the bigness that it is even if all you are surrounded by are the little details. So here is to the little details of life.

The way your rings look as you type your words. The way your book smells when you crack into it for the first time. The scratch of the pen on the page as you write out a journal entry. The coffee rings that stain your table. The laundry to be done and the house to be cleaned. They may not look good in a quick snapshot of your life, but in the whole story, boy do they matter. They set the scene and they add character. As director Emerald Fenell calls them, Gubbins. They mean the stuff of life, the clutter of life. The things that add character and dimension to life. So cheers to gubbins and romanticising the gubbins of your life. May they make you feel truly alive.

xoxo

From your fellow gubbins connoisseur.