How to Hygge
(Pronounced Hoo-guh)
This is going to sound crazy, but I used to leave my house before the Pandemic. I’d meet friends for happy hour, go shopping at the Americana, and I’d even go on dates with members of the same sex because me so gay. Now I do everything in my power to stay inside. It’s so nice in here. All I want to do is read, write, and stare at my plants.
Transitioning back into the post-pandemic world has been a shock to my system. I loved quarantine. I miss it every time someone sneezes without a mask on in public. The Pandemic taught me a lot about myself, too; who knew I could make a perfectly poached egg? Or that I could drink two full bottles of wine all by myself as long as I started at 11 am? I even learned how to use an air fryer, like, what the fuck? My biggest lesson, though, is the one I want to share with you, my loyal readers. During quarantine, I learned how to get cozy and how to stay the fuck cozy. I used to think you could only get cozy in the fall and winter, but I was such a dumbass back then. I learned that you could get cozy every single day of the year, even on 9/11 and leap years.
You might be asking yourself, “Self, what the hell is this lesbian talking about?” I’m talking about Hygge, a word I’m sure the entire population is saying wrong. It’s pronounced Hoo-guh, and it’s the Danish way of life. According to local legend and scientific research, The Danes are the happiest people on Earth, or any planet for that matter. I’d be happy, too, if I lived in a place with warm Rugbrod, fresh Fastelavnsboller, and free healthcare. Unlike Americans, the Dane’s joy doesn’t come from a bottle of pills. It comes from creating a cozy and inviting environment. Hygge is all about textures and smells, candles, and books. My home looks like a Pinterest board beat the ever-living shit out of it; it’s as if a pumpkin-spiced latte named Tiffany came to life and worked as my interior designer. And if Tiffany can create this kind of warm and cozy environment, any idiot can.
The cool thing about Hygge is it’s not about spending a fortune to redo your living situation. You don’t need to be Bill Gates or the Cash Me Outside Girl to have a Hygge household.
Hygge’s about warm socks and chunky knit blankets. It’s about bringing nature indoors, lighting candles, and reading books. And books are free if you steal them from Barnes and Noble or check them out from your local library. I don’t even like saying this next part out loud, but, Hygge’s also about turning off our devices and connecting with people we genuinely care about in person.
If you’ve ever stolen a piece of driftwood from the beach to hang above your fireplace, that’s hygge. If you’ve shoplifted a bunch of leaves and berries out of the forest to make homemade jam, that’s hygge. If you’ve robbed a bank at gunpoint, that’s NOT hygge, and you should definitely Venmo me @LaurenReeves.
I’ve seen a lot of Zoom backgrounds over the last few years, and I’m just gonna be Emily Blunt here; a lot of you need to make your homes less depressing. I don’t want to see an AC/DC poster held up my thumbtacks on a thirty-six-year-old grown man’s wall, Dustin. I shouldn’t have to look at someone using a bath towel as a window shade, Keith. If I were straight, men would be required to send photos of their bedrooms before meeting me in person.
Hygge isn’t just a hard word to pronounce; it’s also a feeling that works all six senses. In the fall and winter, it’s the feeling you get from sitting in front of a warm fire while cupping hot cocoa after a creepy walk through the woods. It’s about dipping your grilled cheese in a warm bowl of tomato soup and throwing your socks in the fireplace before putting them on so your toes are nice and toasty. In the spring and summer, Hygge is about growing herbs in your kitchen and harvesting veggies from your garden. It’s about finding seashells and shark teeth and displaying them in a mason jar on your bathroom sink, a warning to all sea creatures who dare cross your path. Hygge is about creating reading nooks, cooking, and having friends over for sunset dinners in the backyard.
Hygge makes being alive a more joyful experience. If you’re depressed, just know that it’s much easier to be depressed in a cozy environment than not. Making your house Hygge is easy and cheap, and you can start today. Learn how to forage in your area. Go find a tree stump that could be turned into a chair or a coffee table. Build a little free library and fill it with books. Get into making candles, soup, and homemade bread — Propagate plants and give them away to friends, neighbors, and enemies. Make Hygge your mission, and don’t stop until every last room in your house looks like a forest nymph pimped your crib. Your house should be a place everyone wants to visit, and you never want to leave. Happy Hyggeing.