Women's Work: The Labor of Looking Effortless

Women's Work: Always Under-Appreciated

My sister Samoa texted me a photo last week. Her bedroom, finally finished after several months of work. It was stunning,  the kind of space that makes you audibly sigh when you walk in.

I texted back: "This is gorgeous. How long did this take you?"

"Oh, you know. I just kind of threw it together."

I did know. And she didn't.

What she actually did was spend twelve weekends at flea markets. She repainted that credenza twice because the first color wasn't quite right. She drove to three different towns for the exact linen curtains she wanted. She rearranged the furniture four times and definitely cried at least once when nothing looked how she'd pictured it.

But sure. She "threw it together."

The Things We Don't Say

Here's what we don't talk about: Creating a beautiful space is exhausting.

It's the mental load of tracking sales, seasons, what needs replacing. It's returning things three times because the white was too stark, then too warm, then finally right. It's lying awake at 2 AM because something feels wrong and you can't sleep until you figure out it's the lamp - four inches too far left.

But mention any of this and you'll get: "You're so talented at this!"

Which sounds like a compliment but feels like dismissal. Because talent implies ease. Something you were born with, not something you worked at.

A Study in Double Standards

When a man spends his weekend building custom shelves, it's craftsmanship. Skill. "Did you see what he built? Incredible."

When a woman spends six months transforming a sterile apartment into a space that makes everyone feel at home? "She's always been good at decorating."

The difference is this: We see men's work as learned skill. We see women's work as natural inclination. And natural inclinations don't count as labor. They're just things you do. Because you like them.

Never mind that nothing about it is easy.

What We're Really Doing

I think the reason this bothers me is because I know what's really happening when women create beautiful spaces.

We're fighting back.

Against a culture that wants everything minimal, beige, and mass-produced. Against capitalism that makes everything disposable. Against the relentless productivity that says if you're not optimizing, you're failing.

Making something beautiful - really beautiful, in a way that's yours - is an act of rebellion. It's saying: I refuse to live in a world stripped of color and joy. I refuse to accept that efficiency is all that matters.

And it costs us. Time. Energy. The kind nobody sees because the result looks effortless.

The Spaces We Create

Last month I went to a dinner party. The host had set her table with mismatched vintage plates, each one clearly chosen with care. Fresh flowers in old glass bottles. Candles that gave off the warmest light.

I watched everyone relax in a way they hadn't all evening. Shoulders dropped. Phones stayed in pockets. Someone laughed so hard they cried.

That didn't happen by accident.

That happened because a woman spent real time creating an environment where people could exhale. Where beauty made us better. Softer. More human.

And at the end of the night, someone said: "Your home is so lovely. You're so lucky to have good taste."

Lucky.

What I Want to Say

To the women who make spaces beautiful: You're not lucky. You're skilled.

You're not "just into pretty things." You're architects of beauty in a world that's forgotten how to slow down long enough to notice it.

You're doing work that makes life livable.

I see the hours at thrift stores. The research. The way you can't rest when something's off. The refusal to settle for good enough.

You're not being precious or frivolous.

You're creating beauty in a world that desperately needs it.

And that's everything.