Simplicity – On Living With Fewer, Better Objects

Simplicity is often misunderstood.
It is not about having nothing, nor about stripping life of comfort or warmth. True simplicity is about clarity: knowing what belongs, what serves a purpose, and what quietly earns its place over time.

When it comes to everyday objects, simplicity is not an aesthetic choice alone. It is a way of relating to the world.

Simplicity begins with use

An object reveals its value not when it is new, but when it is used.
A good tool does not demand attention. It does not interrupt the moment. It allows the hand to move naturally, the mind to focus elsewhere.

Simplicity, in this sense, means choosing objects that are easy to live with:

• tools that feel intuitive

• materials that age honestly

• forms that don’t need explanation

An apron that ties without thinking.
A comb that moves through hair without resistance.
A cup that feels right every morning, without becoming precious.

These objects do not compete for attention. They support routine.

Fewer objects, clearer habits

Owning fewer things does not automatically create simplicity.
But using fewer, better things often does.

When the same object returns to your hands day after day, a relationship forms. You learn its weight, its limits, its small imperfections. Over time, it becomes reliable. Predictable. Almost invisible.

This kind of familiarity reduces friction.
There is no decision fatigue, no searching, no second-guessing. The object is simply there, ready.

Simplicity is not minimalism for its own sake.
It is the calm that comes from repetition.

Objects as quiet companions

Well-designed everyday objects do not shout.
They sit comfortably in the background of life.

They collect marks, fading, patina. Not as flaws, but as records of time spent in use. These traces are not something to avoid – they are evidence that the object has done its job.

In this way, simplicity is closely tied to durability.
An object built to last allows life to unfold around it without interruption. It does not need replacing, upgrading or justifying.

It stays.

Simplicity as respect

There is also an ethical dimension to simplicity.
Choosing fewer, longer-lasting objects means consuming with intention. It respects materials, labour and time – both yours and others’.

A simple object is often the result of many complex decisions: what to leave out, what to refine, what truly matters in daily use.

Simplicity is rarely accidental.

Living with intention

To live simply does not mean to live without richness.
It means allowing richness to come from experience, not excess.

In daily rituals – cooking, grooming, working, hosting – simplicity shows itself in the ease of movement, the absence of distraction, the quiet confidence that everything needed is already at hand.

The best objects support this way of living.
They do not define the ritual.
They make space for it.

Why simplicity still matters

In a world of constant choice and constant noise, simplicity offers relief.
Not by removing life’s texture, but by sharpening it.

Fewer objects.
Clearer routines.
Better use.

That is not a trend.
It is a way of paying attention.