A Short Introduction to the Intricacies of Hygge and Tiny House Livin'
About three months ago we moved from an apartment on Wall Street to a 125 square foot “tiny house” made of old fence posts and pieces of 1930s Sears Catalogue model homes built in someone’s backyard in South Austin--along with a Doberman named Demitri, and two cats named Little Cat and Pawnee.
And though it was hard to leave, one thing we learned from New York City and more aptly, from Ernest Hemingway, is that feasts are moveable and what we loved and learned from New York City can be moved as far as we do.
Fortunately, there is a word for this moveable feast and it doesn’t originate from New York City or Paris--but Denmark.
hyggelig or hygge
It has no true English equivalent but is too often inadequately translated as "coziness."
Ah, but this is far too simplistic of a word that describes the psyche of an entire country.
Coziness often relates to physical surroundings. A blanket can be cozy; a warm bed can be cozy—whereas hygge has more to do with people's behavior towards each other. It is the art of creating intimacy. This could mean hot cocoa next to a fireplace to one person. Or it could mean watching a Twilight Zone marathon while drinking hard cider with good friends to another. So, many describe hygge as “cozyful." As if hygge is the very embodiment of the warm fuzzies one gets from things--simple things like candles and friends and beer and fire and sugar coated pastries. But that’s not quite it either.
There's more to it than that.
There are three great things about hygge:
1) Hygge can be found everywhere.
Whether it's pedaling Schwinns in Brooklyn.
Or electric bikes in East Austin.
Whether it's a latte at Cafe du Nord in Park Slope.
Or a hard cider at Radio on Manchaca.
It could be brunch in Greenwich.
Or brunch on South Congress.
Maybe it's a trip to the MoMA.
Or to The Dallas Museum of Art.
It could be eating Adrienne's in downtown Manhattan.
Or Homeslice in ATX.
It could be Hats talking to swans in Prospect Park.
Or just Little Cat in the backyard.
2) Hygge is relative.
Our hygge may not be your hygge. Hygge is whatever makes your heart swell. What you'll see here is our hygge--coffee, books, bike rides, wine, candles, Twilight Zone, 20s/30s jazz on the record player, roadtrippin', twinkly white Christmas lights, brunch, and the like. For you it may be something completely different.
3) Hygge is enough.
Hygge is kind of like minimalism. But it's more than that in that it's not an "ism". It is having just enough to make you feel good. Certainly, hygge can be found in the little things, but hygge is more than the things that surround you. It's the people that surround you. The places that surround you. The sentiments that surround you.
And so this is two friends' hygge journey--livin' in a tiny house, drinking coffee out of a gun mug and an Airport Diner mug, listening to Gershwin on vinyl and having one heck of a time doing it. We meant to start this whole thing while living in ole New York Town, but as you can see--we did not.
We have a lot of catching up to do and a lot to share.