Why we can’t get enough of ‘Grannycore’
Doilies! Chintz! Tea sets! Fleur Britten reports on the cosy nostalgia taking over our interiors
You know you’ve become totally ancient when an evening with the sofa and a prime time drama feels like a “big night”. Blame the pandemic (what else?) – aka the Great Acceleration – which, over the course of one very long year, has fastforwarded the ageing process, stealthily converting us into one big pipe-and-slipper brigade. Admit it, who isn’t spending all day in their slippers and shawl, turning down events that might require a change into “real” clothing? Whose skin, hair and body hasn’t aged at warp speed? Who hasn’t started to resemble their elderly relatives in shape and weight after a year of quiet hobbies; moving less, sitting more and eating absolutely everything in sight?
The past 16 months have given rise to “Grannycore” – and the trend has hit our homes too. John Lewis recently revealed that its bestselling item following its reopening in April was a crystal decanter (followed closely by some chunky “hygge” wool). As of this month, sales of the department store’s patterned tea sets were up by 86 per cent, and paper doilies – doilies! – rose by 44 per cent. Meanwhile, interioristas are filling their Instagram feeds with such granny delights as skirted furniture, framed needlepoint, embroidered linens, plates as wall hangings and dried flowers. Whatever next? Antimacassars?
Quite possibly, says Kate WatsonSmyth, an interiors podcaster and author. The pandemic, she explains, has pushed us into finding “different ways to elevate” the humdrum of home. “As our kitchens became our restaurants, it was about trying to make the experience a bit more special by laying the table nicely and maybe lighting a candle. Decanters and doilies are an extension of that.” After all, who knows better about turning the quotidian into an occasion than our grandmothers? You can just hear them: “Stop eating the biscuits out of the packet and get them on a doily!” And why not slow down the moment of wine o’clock with a decanter and some tastefully presented nibbles? God knows we could do with better brakes.
This hankering for cosy nostalgia isn’t surprising, given our anxiety marathon of the past year. The TV presenter and supper club host Laura Jackson, who has not one but two sink skirts (those chintzy curtained under-sink storage spaces) in her East London house, says it feels like “being wrapped in a warm hug” to be in her “intensely floral” granny-chic living room. “It’s like you’re stepping back in time.” Which admittedly sounds pretty appealing right now. “People want to feel as comfortable as possible,” the 35-year-old explains, “and maybe that [quest] takes them back to their grandma’s house; it’s their safe space.” This phenomenon even has a term: “Grandmillennial” style, when millennials (born between 1980 and 2000) recreate that cosy, homely feeling they experienced at grandma’s.
This look has added benefits. Now that our existence is validated on the number of likes we can muster on social media, the rich detail – not to mention the irony – of hashtag grannycore is far more like-inducing than stark minimalism. Chez WatsonSmyth, a row is brewing: “My husband is a fan of crisp, white bedding, no colour,” the author of the Mad About the House interior series explains. “Well, you can’t possibly have a white bed on Instagram – it looks like a white out.” Her solution: “Something floral, cosy and granny-ish – eiderdowns, Liberty prints and lots of clashing patterns.”
Of course, dedicated followers of interior fashions will argue that granny chic is really just cottagecore, the trend that began to flood our feeds last summer with ditsy florals, ginghams, ruffles and chintzy pastels. The New York-based interior designer and blogger Laurel Bern explains that granny chic is indeed this, with “some bohemian thrown in, and bright, happy colours”. Both versions of the trend promise to be big enough to push the dominance of Scandi minimalism aside, says Wil Law, home design stylist at John Lewis. “We’re seeing a return to more decorative, maximalist and comfortable homes, with, for example, increased sales of oldfashioned, tapered lampshades, comfy sofas and updated archive prints.” And unlike minimalism, it is, says Watson-Smyth, a look that is “made for living – it’s comfortable and inviting”. An important shift occurred in lockdown, she adds: “People started to choose decor that made them feel supported mentally.”
The good news about granny chic is that it’s easy to get right, says Watson-Smyth. “With minimalism, everything has to earn its place. Here, mismatched is great, and chips and cracks are forgiven. It’s meant to have a bit of humour to it.”
But don’t be too hardcore about grannycore. For Bern, some of the no-nos are plate-glass over table tops, saccharine pastels and wallpaper borders. Jackson recommends leaving plenty of clean space between the more traditional-looking bits and bobs, as well as introducing modern twists – for example, her sink skirts are made from handblock-printed African fabric. Watson-Smith advises opting for a chintz with a bit of neon, or offsetting it against, say, a cobalt wall. And you can’t go wrong by channelling Coco Chanel, she adds. “I might throw everything at the room, and then take back the last thing, Otherwise it’s not going to be restful – and that’s what we need.”
‘Chips and cracks are forgiven. It’s meant to have a bit of humour to it’