Valentine's lamps, Easter rugs: 'seasonal decor' has become a year-long tat-fest | Amelia Tait

. UK edition

A shop window in Matlock Bath, Derbyshire.
A shop window in Matlock Bath, Derbyshire. Photograph: Ian Francis stock/Alamy

This year-round churn profits shops and content creators, but not the rest of us. Nobody needs ‘autumn oven gloves’, says freelance writer Amelia Tait

It’s Valentine’s Day, which means you should have spent the last few weeks swapping all of the lamps in your house. If not, you still have a few hours: box up your beige lampshades (or better yet, throw them in the bin) and replace them with ones of red and pink hues. Then – if you want to feel mentally well – you must also change your lightbulbs, because “warm white lighting” is the best way to ensure your crimson decor doesn’t look “too harsh”.

This is according to online lighting company Pooky, which is selling 43 “lust-worthy lamps” (and shades) for Valentine’s Day. A press release sent on behalf of the brand in late January proudly declared that Google searches for “seasonal decor” have increased 70% year-on-year globally, while queries about “Valentine’s decor” have soared 2,584% since the start of 2026. “The beauty of seasonal lighting,” said Pooky’s chief creative officer, “is that it’s easy to rotate. Store one or two Valentine lampshades, a set of rose-tinted bulbs and a handful of candles in a labelled box, and you can transform your home every February in minutes.”

That’s all very well and good, but what if my “lusty lighting” box won’t fit next to the plastic tubs holding my “autumn oven gloves”, “Halloween curtain rods” and “Easter rugs”? Wouldn’t it be faster – better, even – to join the 62% of Britons who simply throw perfectly good homeware in the bin? After all, how else will I find the time on 16 March to swap from my Mother’s Day to St Patrick’s Day decor?

Can I just ask: what are we doing? More than a quarter of Britons feel homeware trends are “changing at an increasingly fast pace”, and 70m items of home decor are thrown away every year. I’ll concede there are some things worth destroying the planet for (flying! We literally get to fly across the sky!), but surely not this? Surely we can all agree that the climate apocalypse isn’t a fair exchange for a “brown resin Valentines dog ornament” wearing heart-shaped glasses and a little pink bow? (It’s uglier than you think, please do not click.)

It’s not that seasonal decor can never make sense. It’s the balm we’ve sought during the cost of living crisis, when many people find it too expensive to go out, and home is where the heart-shaped frying pan is. Socialising is costlier than ever, but novelty ceramics have seemingly never been cheaper. And it’s understandable that we want our living spaces to be cosy and calm when the world outside is anything but.

But leaving aside the harm to the planet – and how often we do! – “fast homeware” is full of false promises. In the 41,000 TikTok videos tagged “seasonal decor” (plus countless others hashtagged #autumnaesthetic or #springvibes), influencers promise that swapping out your homeware can boost your mood, spark joy and even “heal your soul”. For years, marketers and content creators have savvily used the names of happiness hormones to conflate shopping and personal wellbeing. TK Maxx has a page on its website called Dopamine Home Decor (under the umbrella of Home Seasonal Events).

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but a spring-themed bath mat is not going to markedly improve your mental health. In reality, overconsumption has been repeatedly linked to lower wellbeing and even psychological distress. Personally, I know that the buzz of buying something is often quickly replaced with an empty sensation and a desire for more – the satisfaction somehow never seems to last.

Plus, there are faster and cheaper ways to get a dose of dopamine (music, meditation and especially volunteering, for a start). And if you’re an aesthete, never fear! I actually know a fantastic little designer who redecorates seasonally, free of charge. Her name is mother nature, and she also swaps out the bulbs.

Of course, I’m fighting a losing battle: online content creators must create content and supermarkets must generate ever-increasing profits, so the year-round demand for novelty is not going anywhere any time soon. If I can’t beat them, maybe I should join them – and charge for my ideas (a jester’s-hat butter dish for April Fools’ Day; an Ash Wednesday kettle). Or maybe I have one last trick up my sleeve to make you reconsider: think of your grandma’s home.

She never swapped out the lamps – the things on her coffee table were the things on her coffee table, collected over the course of a lifetime, consistent while you grew and changed. That stained, stainless steel teapot spoke to you from a different era; it showed you the world existed before you existed, it promised that things could endure after you were gone. Isn’t there meaning and happiness to be found in consistent homeware, in a home that reflects your personality, and in a personality that’s unwavering in the face of marketing trends? Wait, no. I’ve got it: bank-holiday shoe rack.