Reading · Haley Drew This

“Whimsy” is having a moment.

Marketing emails parade through my inbox, promising me a whimsical life via dachshund-shaped candle holders and beaded earrings and pajama pants with scalloped hems. My algorithms suggest I consider “whimsy-maxxing” (must we “max” everything?!). Even The New York Times reported on the trend, noting that Etsy saw a 50 percent increase in searches for “whimsy-related items.”

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that “whimsy” is being commodified, but it feels… off. And look, I’m no stranger to purchasing things that lean playful (Pink overalls! Farmers market bouquets! The list goes on). But you can’t buy a feeling, and you sure can’t mass-produce it.

Gretchen Rubin recently described whimsy as “an impulse toward delight.” At first I questioned her phrasing, equating the word “impulse” to the thoughtless purchases and decisions I’ve made over the years. But then I thought about my childhood, when I covered my ice cream cones in sprinkles simply because they were colorful and danced around the kitchen because the radio was on. I was once such a spontaneous, silly creature, following my bliss whenever I could. That, I realized, was whimsy in its purest form.

This is not to say you should avoid purchasing things that delight you, but rather that at its core, whimsy might be more of a mindset than anything else.

As for stepping into that mindset, I have a few ideas:

By passing through your front door and into the world, you increase the likelihood of stumbling upon something delightful! You don’t have to go far—I’ve found some of the best treasures by walking around my neighborhood:

Look up from your phone and see a dog in a yellow raincoat. Remove your headphones and hear someone playing the saxophone on their front porch (yes, this has really happened to me). Whimsy is everywhere if you pay attention.

And hey, if you encounter something particularly delightful, take a photo and add it to a dedicated album. You never know when you might need a pick-me-up.

Try to frown when a skeleton has a disco ball for a head!

I mentioned that whimsy feels antithetical to mass production. In the same vein, whimsy offers a true antidote to AI.

To be whimsical is to create, be it birthday cards or dinner party menus or even donut decor. If you mess up, remember: whimsy = play = imperfection = human (and that’s math, folks).

A few years ago I broke my toe and had to wear a clunky medical shoe while it healed. Upon seeing it, my sister offered to give it a glow-up with her paint markers. If this isn’t whimsy, I don’t know what is:

Googly eyes will also do the trick.

Reacquaint yourself with play. A few ways I’ve done so include decorating cookies, watching movies outside, painting with friends, categorizing rocks by color, trying new crafts, drawing with sidewalk chalk, making seasonal bingo boards, ordering the most absurd ice cream cone on the menu, and, of course, hanging out with kids themselves.