Post-college, I found myself craving a room that had lots of open space and was also functional and versatile. I knew that if I just tossed a mattress on the floor and called it a day, I would look considerably more like a frat guy than a minimalist. It was important to me to create a cozy and inviting atmosphere, perfect for myself and any guests, and I also happened to be an avid floor-dweller. So, taking all that into conisideration, I quickly decided that the obvious route to go down was a minimalist, floor-based room inspired by traditional Japanese design.
The Inspiration: Traditional Japanese Design
The traditional Japanese floor-based design, known as "washitsu," is rooted in Japan's rich cultural history. This setup revolves around tatami mats—woven straw floor coverings that define the room's dimensions.
The use of minimal and multi-purpose furniture, such as futons and low tables reflects the emphasis on flexibility and efficiency. This design approach prioritized open, fluid spaces that could be easily reconfigured according to the immediate needs of the inhabitants, whether for sleeping, eating, or socializing.
The aesthetic values of "wabi-sabi," embracing simplicity and impermanence, and "ma," the concept of negative space or emptiness, profoundly influenced this style. These principles create an environment that promotes tranquility and mindfulness, devoid of unnecessary clutter.
From Concept to Reality: Adapting Washitsu for Los Angeles
The washitsu design is an absolute dream to me and represents virtually everything I stand for. Of course, I was restricted by the space itself. I wouldn't be able to change the walls, windows, or ceilings. I was also restricted by the measurements of the floor, which wouldn't permit me to lay a tatami set based on traditional rules. I ultimately decided that imperfect tatami was better than no tatami, and thankfully, people have been very generous in accepting this shortcoming.
I tried to prioritize implementing the simplicity, flexibility, and opennness I loved so much with the resources I had available. I was 24 when I created this room, so needless to say I had no design education or experience, and primarily focused on function over form. Surprisingly, my friends (even the Pottery Barn loving decor girlies) loved the space and always felt very cozy and comforted there.
Photos of my room in LA
The Setup: Combining Function and Comfort
Of course, my access to traditional Japanese furniture was a bit limited in Los Angeles, so I improvised and did the best with what I had. I was able to track down some tatami mats, which were surprisingly heavy, and also made my room smell like rush grass for the first few month (honestly totally up my alley). At first, I tried sleeping directly on the tatami (just to see if I could), but I ended up picking up a futon after a few weeks and absolutely do not regret it. Based on the room layout, it wasn't a roll-away futon; it just permanently stayed in bed-state and I usually hid it behind a folding divider (pictured above).
Since I wanted a sitting desk, I decided to pick up a meditation floor chair and two basic matching coffee tables so there would be space for others to sit and work with me. My roommates called it "megadesk" and it was AWESOME. I also chose woven window covers instead of curtains, as they created beautiful warm light and didn't disrupt the line-and-angle-based aesthetic.
Lastly, I decided to add a hammock. This was the most non-traditional element in the room, but a choice I absolutely stand by. I spent many hours sitting in that hammock, reading, crying, thinking about life, talking on the phone - the swinging movement was truly the only thing more comforting than lying on the floor.
Low-Maintenance Living: The Joy of Minimalism
Due to its minimalist nature, the space was SUPER low-maintenance. It was incredibly easy to keep clean, as it was an obvious no-shoe zone, and a robot vaccuum could easily clean the mat and the hardwood around it. The tatami was actually high enough that the Roomba recognized the edges without fail and never fell off or got stuck.
The recommended tatami maintenance is to vacuum weekly, wipe with dry cloths as needed, and avoid harsh chemicals or excessive water. Since there was very little furniture, it was easy to keep everything else dust-free and all surfaces clean.
The Intangible Rewards: Space for More Than Just Things
When you step into the room, there is just a lot of *space* - space to think, move around, sit, lay - a safe haven for claustrophobic-prone people like myself. The space is designed to breathe, allowing me and my guests to feel a sense of calm and openness. Everyone was surprisingly happy about sitting and lying on the floor, finding it comforting and different.
I generally really enjoyed how easy the space made it to have guests over. If we were eating in my room, we would lay out a picnic blanket and have a charming little floor picnic. If friends were sleeping over, there was lots of room to lay out one or two futons or air mattresses. I always really appreciated how much my friends enjoyed and praised the room.
Conclusion:
I no longer live in that apartment and have moved into a house in Missouri. We haven't settled into a permanent living space yet, but as soon as we do, I will be pulling my tatami out of storage and building a new floor-based area (even if just one room in the house).
As I continue to explore and share my minimalist journey, I hope to inspire others to find their own balance between simplicity, functionality, and personal expression.