Culture Share: What does your bedroom wall say about you?
Making a case against minimalism and generic wall art that says little about personality
Our bedrooms reveal much about who we are and could be, particularly what we plaster across the walls. It’s our most intimate and sacred space, the last bastion of privacy we possess in a world that demands so much access into our lives.
In 1995, photographer Adrienne Salinger published her book documenting the bedroom walls of American teenagers from 1985 onwards. Salinger beautifully captures the cherished spaces of young people who express themselves through images of their favourite artists, films, comic books and sports stars.
By the time I was fifteen, my bedroom wall was littered with SLAM magazine basketball posters featuring my favourite players, such as Kobe Bryant, Michael Jordan and Amar’e Stoudemire. And of course, the most iconic poster of them all among hip-hop fans, the ‘rap gods’. For my sixteenth birthday, my parents bought me a framed portrait of Muhammad Ali leaping from a Chicago rooftop. If a stranger were to look at the bedroom walls, they could see that I had a strong affinity for Black popular culture, and that would later define my identity and personality. It was also likely the early inspiration for my archival film The Dance Begins At Home.
However, when it comes to our bedrooms, class plays a significant role in shaping our personal image. Sometimes, that’s when community can become a double-edged sword. When children share bedrooms, they can be inner sanctums for confessions among siblings, particularly when venting about school or parents. It’s in these spaces that relationships between siblings are both strengthened and tested; when things go right, the bedroom can foster lifelong intimacy, but when they go wrong, it can be strained. This is when the shared space can become fractured, as it reduces a sense of independence and personal identity.
As we grow up and become adults, we still find ways to express ourselves in our living spaces. Posters become framed art, toys become collectable items, random trinkets become concert ticket stubs, cosmetic packaging and any other miscellaneous paraphernalia. In cities where living costs price people out of living by themselves, the bedroom remains the inner sanctum, but it can often be suffocating, even more so since the pandemic, when bedrooms have also become the workspace. That lack of separation can exacerbate feelings of isolation and loneliness, or it can encourage young people, especially, to find other ways to socialise with friends outside of the home. For those who live alone or with partners, the bedroom ceases to become the sole personalised space, with the living room becoming the primary room for self-expression of identity.
In the digital age, our living spaces have often become homogenised as people draw inspiration from the same moodboards, and there can be pressure to build the perfect, Instagrammable home that may not differ from your neighbours. New build properties, which often use the same minimalist template, leave little room for individuality that you may find in period homes, as developers seek to minimise costs and increase volume.
This doesn’t acknowledge the hoarders and archivists whose bedrooms and living rooms are an extension of their minds, rather than an expression of their interests and hobbies. Over the past few years, my living space has become an archive of materials – vinyl, CDs, magazines, books, basketballs, and cameras – that I’ve collected throughout my life. For those who know me, they could walk into my living room and say, ‘This is definitely Jesse’s space. ’ That’s not to say everyone’s living space should be like this, but you would want to express yourself in your living space just as much as you would through the clothes and shoes you wear.
What can brands do?
The bedroom should remain the last private space where brands have little presence. However, brands such as Supreme, KAWS, Aesop and Patch have found ways to access the home while allowing consumers to express themselves. Authentically showing up in the bedroom begins with an understanding of how brands can add value through form or functionality.
IKEA has been the most prominent brand in the bedroom for decades. You know an IKEA piece of furniture when you see it, and that kind of brand affinity and resonance is difficult to replicate. Although IKEA furniture prioritises functionality over form, it has built up a cult following that eventually became mainstream due to the changing landscape of modern living. It’s affordable, doesn’t require many tools or DIY experience, and is appealing to young people and families who may not have the skills or time to build furniture.
What about those small trinkets that carry a level of sentimental value? It’s hard for a brand to mimic and insert itself into the first concert you went to as a teenager, but you may see Ticketmaster or Live Nation on the ticket stub. However, while it may not be the promoter that people remember, they played a role in creating that memory.
For me, it’s physical tech brands, such as Kenwood, Pioneer, and Technics, that you’ll see in my bedroom and living room. They not only provide a necessary function when it comes to listening to music, but the reason I own Kenwood products in particular is that the hi-fi system that I grew up with as a child was manufactured by Kenwood. That sort of lifelong relationship is what brands should seek to create with consumers. Where the functional becomes meaningful. Not all brands can be a conversation piece, nor do they have to be the main draw within sacred bedroom spaces when items provide function over form. After all, no one really wants their personal spaces to look like Times Square.
 | A guest post by
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