on the edge of a mini renaissance

I’ve been noticing a trend, and I’m genuinely curious if other people are seeing it too…or if it’s just my algorithm feeding me what I want to believe.

But it feels like we might be on the precipice of a small renaissance, especially here in the States.

For a long time now, everything has been about making a dollar. Short-term thinking. Quick wins. Businesses built to flip instead of last. Somewhere along the way, we lost sight of the long game – of building something that can be passed down, something created with meaning, something you’re actually proud to stand behind.

And I think a lot of that has gone by the wayside in favor of just making a quick buck.

I’m seeing this shift show up everywhere. In housing. In interiors. In the way people are decorating and collecting – whether that means buying new pieces made with real skill or thrifting old ones that already carry history. There’s this return to a more decorated opulence, a renewed appreciation for things that are made well, that have a technical component, that required real ability to execute.

It’s funny, I’ve always gravitated toward this naturally. But lately, it feels less personal and more cultural. (And that’s my own funny story for another time.)

After years of hyper-minimalism and efficiency-driven design, there’s a hunger again for skill. For craft. For evidence that something wasn’t just optimized but considered.

Not more – but better.

Not louder – but richer.

the IKEA-fication of everything

I work in branding, and honestly? I’m tired.

I’m tired of everything being IKEA-fied – clean, palatable, modern, and completely stripped of character. So many brands over the years have taken big swings toward “modernization” and missed their niche entirely in the process. They sanded off the very edges that made them special.

Cracker Barrel is a great example of this. The rebrand didn’t just fall flat – it erased the point. And they’re not alone. Countless businesses have chased minimalism as a shortcut to relevance, only to end up indistinguishable from everyone else.

When everything is clean, neutral, and streamlined, nothing feels made to last.

What I think we’re seeing now is a reaction to that sameness. A quiet rejection of disposable aesthetics in favor of things that feel enduring. Brands, homes, objects, and businesses that are designed not just to sell – but to hold.

skill is coming back into favor

What excites me most about this moment is the renewed respect for technical ability.

Skill takes time. It takes patience. It takes practice…and it can’t be automated or shortcut easily. And for a long time, we deprioritized it in favor of speed and scalability.

But now? People are noticing the difference.

You can feel it in the way people talk about craftsmanship again. In how they choose materials. In the way they invest – not just money, but care.

Even in business, I’d love to see more people building companies with the intention that they might last. That they might mean something. That they could be passed down instead of cashed out.

Less “what can I monetize quickly?”

More “what am I actually building?”

a return to what endures

I really hope this isn’t just something I’m seeing because I want to see it. I hope it’s real.

Because I would love to live in a culture that values skill again. That respects technical mastery. That chooses depth over speed, character over polish, intention over trends.

What feels different this time is that the shift isn’t loud. It’s subtle. It’s showing up in small choices, personal spaces, independent brands, and thoughtfully built businesses.

Things made to last are coming back into favor.

And I’m here for it.

I’m invested.