Walk through any office and you’ll notice there are two distinct approaches to personalizing one’s workspace: the minimalist approach or the maximalist approach. While there’s technically room for middle ground, most of us tend to fall decisively into one camp or the other, and each operate from their own internal logic about what makes a workspace feel right in a space where they spend a large chunk of their waking hours.
The Minimalist: The Art of Intentional Emptiness
The minimalist approaches their workspace with a philosophy rooted in simplicity and freedom, They believe their desk or cubicle should remain uncluttered and unfettered by the weight of personal belongings, decorative objects, or anything that might create visual noise. They gravitate towards clean lines and neutral palettes (“greige”?) like those found in a meditation room, a monk’s retreat, or a prison call.
You won’t find family photos arranged on their desk. There are no inspirational quotes tacked to the cubicle wall, and certainly no coffee mugs proclaiming their personality or weekend hobbies. For them, the office is a place of focus and function and most certainly not a gallery of their life outside the company’s walls. They’ve made peace with the standard-issue in/out basket that came with the desk, the grey or taupe fabric panels that define their cubicle boundaries, and the overhead lighting that everyone else despises. Their space may look like it could belong to anyone but that’s OK – because it also means it doesn’t demand anything of them beyond the work itself.
These are the people who carry what they need in a bag each day; bringing only the essentials and taking them home each night, as they operate under the belief that permanence creates attachment and attachment creates obligation. They’re not necessarily fans of cubicles, particularly because they’d prefer a door they could close when they need to concentrate or take a call, but the concept of hot-desking doesn’t bother them the way it does others, because they’ve never really settled into any one spot anyway.
The lack of decoration doesn’t signify ennui. Instead, it’s about creating a workspace that feels adaptable, unencumbered, and allows them to maintain the psychological boundary between work life and home life that helps them stay sane.
The Maximalist: Building a Nest Worth
The maximalist, on the other hand, operates from an entirely different set of principles, guided by the deeply held belief that if you’re going to spend eight, ten, or even twelve hours a day in a space, it should feel welcoming, personal, and reflective of who you are as a human being, not just an employee ID number. Their approach to office décor isn’t about excess for the sake of it, but rather about creating an environment that softens the hard edges of corporate life – turning a sterile cubicle or bland office into something that feels livable. Maybe even lovable.
These are the people who bring color into grey spaces, lay a rug over industrial carpet because it adds warmth and texture, and tuck throw pillows onto their desk chair. You’ll find their bookshelves crammed with books they picked up at conferences over the year, framed photos of family vacations, and handmade gifts from their kids. The walls will be adorned with either framed sports memorabilia, crap from Hobby Lobby (“Live, Laugh, Love” engraved on wood), or a Successories poster.
There are table lamps scattered throughout their space because the overhead fluorescent lighting genuinely feels harsh and headache-inducing after a full day, and the soft glow of a desk lamp makes the late afternoon emails feel a little more bearable. Baskets appear in corners and on shelves, holding everything from extra sweaters and blankets (because the office air conditioning is unpredictable at best) to emergency snacks, charging cables, and the random office supplies they’ve accumulated over time.
Does the maximalist do this to “claim” their territory in some primal way? Maybe. But it’s much more about recognizing that the environment we work in affects how we feel, think, and show up for the people around us. So if a few personal touches can make the difference between dreading Monday morning and feeling just a little bit more human, isn’t it worth the effort?
Two Sides of the Same Coin
Neither the minimalist nor the maximalist is wrong in their approach – they’re both solving for the same fundamental challenge of spending significant portions of their lives in a space that doesn’t belong to them, and they’re simply choosing different strategies to make that reality more tolerable. The minimalist finds freedom and clarity in keeping things simple: maintaining the ability to pack up and move without emotional attachment weighing them down. The maximalist finds comfort and joy in building a small nest within the larger corporate structure: creating a sense of home even in a place that’s most assuredly not home.
Both are making conscious choices about boundaries, about what work means to them, and about how much of themselves they’re willing to bring into a space that exists for productivity and profit.
As for me? I’m a maximalist and have been for as long as I can remember. I, personally, have never been able to function in spaces that feel intentionally blank and soulless. My desk has never met a decorative lamp it didn’t like, I believe you can never have too many shelves on which to employe the “Rule of Three,” and, in my opinion, a throw pillow or casually tossed blanket softens the hard edges of any office chair. It’s fun to hang art that has nothing to do with anything remotely related to the work you’re supposed to be doing.
Of course, when you’re an office décor maximalist and the time comes to move on to whatever is next, you may need a small moving crew and possibly a U-Haul. But to a maximalist, the tradeoff is worth it to create a space that feel homey and welcoming – even when it means embracing a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign without irony or shame.
