Why millennials love midcentury modern

I’ve recently become betrothed, so naturally I’ve started playing the fantasy house game; scrolling through property sites on my phone, highest price first, before I go to sleep at night. I thought I knew what I was looking for; a Georgian townhouse, solid stone steps leading up to a grand front door, basement kitchen, you know the drill… but then I saw it, my dream house. The main living area is a vast open plan, multi-levelled space with a sweeping wall of windows; white limestone floors contrast against its naked brick body and slatted wooden ceiling; everything is bathed in brilliant natural light, the lines between inside and outside gloriously blurred. In short, it’s a mid-century modern (MCM) masterpiece.

Like most millennials, MCM is an aesthetic that touches me in a special way. I can barely think of a friend whose home doesn’t contain a nod to the period: an Eames-ish chair, an Ercol-esque coffee table. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that the style is now so ubiquitous it’s become interior design neutral; the be-all and end-all of good taste.

But why? What exactly is it about these designs – created roughly between 1945 and 1970 – that hold such power over people born between 1981 and 1996? What’s the magic?

If you ask the internet, the answer is Mad Men. The show, which first aired in 2007, featured immaculately authentic MCM sets created with the help of Herman Miller – the makers of mid-century icons such as the Eames lounge chair and ottoman (which has been in continuous production since it debuted in 1956), the Noguchi table  and the sling sofa (a waiting room stalwart). But I don’t buy it; not least because I only watched the show for the first time a couple of years ago, dragging myself through three episodes before deciding that I wasn’t willing to put up with another minute of Don Draper’s schtick. But more than that, it’s a lazy explanation which completely overlooks the integrity of the designs themselves.

MCM isn’t about New York offices, it’s David Hockney’s Big Splash – it’s the California dream. We’re a generation that grew up California Dreamin’; from Grease to The OC, Pretty Woman to Saved by the Bell and Clueless to The Hills – California was always the place to be (and interestingly, where Don Draper eventually ends up). It’s also where MCM architecture really took hold – in no small part thanks to renowned developer Joseph Eichler, who built 11,000 MCM homes in the state between 1949 and 1966. MCM comes to life in The Golden State, where the sun always shines, and it makes sense for a living room roof to jut out, morphing into shaded, pool-side veranda.

If one word sums up the midcentury modern aesthetic, it's optimistic. When I was scrolling through the pictures of MCM dream house I was overcome with the feeling that if I lived there, I’d be happy every day. Obviously this is a deranged fantasy (even more so if you actually know me), but somehow MCM seems to evoke such unbridled notions of nirvana.

‘It really is a utopian vs. dystopian design aesthetic,’ says Jamie Gordon, a social scientist who studies consumer culture. ‘There’s something about the clean lines, the mixing of natural materials with manmade materials, finding that nice balance between the two, merging the indoor aesthetic with the outdoor aesthetic… there’s a sense of fun to it, an almost child-like nature, a subtle whimsy.’

Of course MCM is itself a product of its time. ‘It’s very much rooted in the post-war period,’ midcentury design author Dominic Bradbury explains. ‘Architects and designers were reacting to the austerity and hardships of the wartime years… there was a real desire to explore new ideas, fresh ways of doing things.’

The result is a more holistic approach to living, says Sinead McCarthy contemporary curator at Museum of the Home. ‘Mid-century spaces are designed in a considered way – they literally give us the space to breathe, light to feel optimistic, clever ways to hide, store or display our belongings. These qualities offer us spaces that consider our wellbeing and give us clarity and control.’ And this is all in contrast, she says, to the way many of us are actually living: ‘in more cluttered, smaller spaces than ever before.’

This all makes sense, but what is it that makes millennials particularly susceptible to this fantasy? ‘If you look at the restrictiveness of the path that was laid out for millennials when they were growing up, they were boxed into all these expectations of what they were supposed to be, only to go out into the world and discover none of the opportunities were there,’ Gordon explains. ‘So I think this is a generation that has been trying to find ways to flow in the world a little more naturally. And if you look at the aesthetic of mid-century design and homes, that’s what it is. I think there’s an openness to mid-century design that matches the desire for openness and fluidity that millennials want in their lives.’

Unfortunately, at £11.5 million, I’m not moving into my dream house any time soon. For now I’ll have to make do with my 1950s ex-council flat and knackered hand-me-down G Plan-adjacent sideboard, gifted to me by a family friend after a stint sitting out in her garden. But I guess that’s the joy of mid-century modern; no matter your budget, no matter your living situation, everyone can have a slice of the dream.