I’m a ‘sad beige mum’ like Meghan – it’s the only way I can cope

Embracing neutral tones is not a crime, says Charlotte Cripps. It’s a retreat from the madness of politics, war, climate change, and my life as a single mum juggling two children and a job

Adding insult to injury, the forthright comedian Katherine Ryan has accused Meghan Sussex’s new Netflix series With Love, Meghan of being “too beige” – and this after it has been panned by critics and hate-watched by millions.

Speaking on her podcast Telling Everybody Everything, the comedian, who also criticised Sussex for lying about whether she knew her husband Prince Harry before she met him, said she was “not against her”, but that, “She just doesn’t seem to be the kind of girl I would want to be friends with. It’s too manicured, it’s too beige.”

Hmmm. I know it’s considered as dull as ditchwater to deck a place out in perfect neutrals, but I do also want to stand up and say that, actually, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of Kelly Hoppen. I understand the psychology of going full-throttle beige, like Meghan has, only too well. Stop judging us sad beige mums – it’s the only way I can cope.

I lost control of my life when I had two kids on my own using my partner’s banked sperm after he died midway through our IVF journey – so I bought everything in neutral tones: mocha mousse-coloured towels, cream paint, earthy toned duvets sets, kid’s clothes in oat, off-white baby bouncers, and inoffensive, colourless toys.

As I look around my flat now, it’s literally all beige: the wooden floors, the tiles, the T-shirts – the lot! Even the dog is creamy white (Muggles is a golden retriever). How did I get to this point? It’s quite scary. I see it in so many of my mum friends’ houses, too – it’s called the “sad beige aesthetic”, all muted colours. I wish I could stop it. I know it’s safe and boring, but you see beige is also a retreat from the madness – politics, war, climate change, and my life as a single mum juggling two children and a job.

I can honestly say that the neutral colour palettes have eased my emotional pain with grief, loss and other setbacks. I’ve even hidden an old pink sofa under a sandstone throw – admittedly half the reason is because Muggles chewed one side off it – but what is wrong with taking refuge in beige?

I often envy houses that are cluttered with multi-coloured velvet armchairs, avant-garde patterned wallpaper and big pendant ceiling lamps in bright pink and orange, but if it’s going to cause me to panic in my own home, what’s the point?

‘The bone, sand and hessian colour tones of Meghan’s show are calming, relaxing and dependable – when everything around me feels like I’m spinning plates’ (PA Media)

To buy an Ikea cream sofa and plonk it in a minimalist setting is like wearing a uniform – it doesn’t take much thought. There’s no grit to beige and no mess, unlike my inner emotional world. Call it impractical – I don’t care.

I haven’t started sprinkling white flowers on crudites, or packaging up creamy popcorn for guest rooms I don’t have, like Sussex does on her TV show, but the bone, sand and hessian colour tones are calming, relaxing and dependable – when everything around me feels like I’m spinning plates.

“Sad beige”, also known as “sad beige mum” is a visual aesthetic that uses muted colour tones in homes, clothing and overall style. It refers to a minimalist style in which parents choose neutral-coloured children’s toys, buggies, bibs, bedding, and home décor for their children, including playrooms. Its critics argue that this approach deprives children of colourful stimulation – but in my view, that’s total rubbish.

Why the hell should I turn my flat into a nursery school full of rainbow-coloured toys just so all my kids’ friends, who also have sad beige mums, can come over to wreck our flat when a playdate at theirs is like having a party in an empty white wardrobe? One nanny insists that my children, Lola, 8, and Liberty, 6, clean up the whole mansion before they leave – using them as unpaid hired help when they have only played with a few environmentally friendly wooden toys in one room.

Children have plenty of opportunity to drown in brash bright colours – just look at the long hours that parents spend ferrying them to parties at horrendous multi-coloured soft play centres.

Of course, it was upsetting for my children when I politely turned down the offer of a free Barbie Dreamhouse last week, but I would have had a total freak out with a 3ft-tall pink monstrosity dominating our living space.

Just don’t blame us mums for being beige. Many of us are utterly exhausted managing the work-life balance and school drop-offs. Beige is like a calm in the storm. We are bombarded with social media beige-ness – the look is all over Instagram as it’s photogenic and on TikTok as part of the “clean girl” aesthetic. It’s a fresh start as it’s the opposite of the homes we grew up in – mine had deep pink carpets and a green kitchen. People want to emulate the “quiet luxury” of beige. It signals to the world that you have it all together when you don’t.

Of course, when people are inauthentic, it can seem like a cop-out or phoney. But often, it’s all we have to hold onto. The truth is, I simply wouldn’t function in bright decor with too much coming at me. I feel I have too much coming at me in life.