idle gaze 045: enjoy the silence.
Unpacking the cultural undercurrents of quiet.
Over the last few months, ‘quiet luxury’ entered the mainstream lexicon, a phrase referring to a certain understated, subtle fashion style, signalling membership to a certain echelon of opulence. Quiet luxury content has taken the form of moodboards featuring Loro Piana pieces, The Row collections and Hermes Kelly bags. There’s an abundance of quiet luxury videos on TikTok and online articles referencing the wardrobes of Shiv on Succession, Sienna Miller in Anatomy Of A Scandal and paparazzi shots of the Olsen twins. Aesthetically, Vogue recently defined it as “less austere than minimalism but more polished than normcore.”
Beyond the aesthetics, the crux of the quiet luxury conversation lies in a certain sense of intrigue about old money patina. People are drawn to its ability to act as a subtle yet powerful status indicator of generational wealth. To successfully pull off this trend requires inhabiting an innate sense of effortless style and finesse that can only be acquired by a certain ‘elite’ demographic.
But underneath quiet luxury flows a deeper, more encompassing cultural undercurrent favouring quiet everything. Quiet styles, quiet lifestyles, quiet mindsets and quiet modes of communication are currently enjoying a certain cachet.
In the ear-piercing, urban landscape that dominates daily life, quiet signals the privilege of space, privacy and peace of mind.
In the latest Airpod Pro advert - titled ‘quiet the noise’ - the main character finds themselves caught in the chaos and cacophony of downtown Manhattan, surrounded by deafening jackhammers, screaming kids and honking cars. But with a quick tap of a button, road maintenance, loud crowds and traffic jams are catapulted high into the sky. Suddenly, the city is enveloped in a zen-like silence, as the Airpod Pro wearer flows through the quiet streets.
For the retail price of 250 euros, Apple’s noise-cancelling headphones can offer you a temporary sonic reprieve. But lifetime, around-the-clock silence is a luxury only few can afford.
Because quiet is inherently a question of class. In neighbourhoods around the world, there’s a clear correlation between silence and wealth. Rich districts are also the quietest ones. In New York, the Upper East Side, which runs from 59th Street to 96th Street in Manhattan, is one of the borough’s quietest neighbourhoods. Likewise, places like London’s Mayfair feel like ghost towns.
Xochitl Gonzalez explores this sonic divide between the rich and poor in her essay in the Atlantic, unpacking why rich people love quiet:
New York in the summer is a noisy place, especially if you don’t have money. The rich run off to the Hamptons or Maine. The bourgeoisie are safely shielded by the hum of their central air, their petite cousins by the roar of their window units. But for the broke—the have-littles and have-nots—summer means an open window, through which the clatter of the city becomes the soundtrack to life: motorcycles revving, buses braking, couples squabbling, children summoning one another out to play, and music. Ceaseless music.
In Berlin, just as quiet has come to signify the arrival of wealth, loudness has transformed into a reverberating fight against gentrification. Political protests in the city are often soundtracked by techno blasted through scruffy sound systems, symbolising a refusal to be silenced. Next to the entrance of the club Wilde Renate in Friedrichshain, a large banner offers a warning to future neighbours to respect the loud vibrations of dance music that define the area:
“This corner has been dedicated to culture, music and arts for many years, the sound belongs to this area and should be taken into account before buying or renting spaces here.”
Quiet has become a rebellion against the intensely digitised, hyper-productive status quo of modern culture.
Quiet is also the sound of slowing down and logging off.
‘Quiet quitting’, now a ubiquitous term, symbolises a revolt against the deafening pressure of hustle culture. Instead of wanting to be the loudest in the meeting, there’s an aspiration to sit back and do the minimum, putting in no more time, effort or enthusiasm than absolutely necessary.
Meanwhile, social media is now embracing its “introvert era” - a shift from the roaring public bazaars of Instagram and TikTok to much smaller, tranquil, private communities like Discord, Telegram and Welcome Home that favour quiet, more intimate conversations.
The concept of quiet can embody many forms: sonic, visual, or cultural. But at its core lies a common tension. The inherent loudness of creativity, productivity, and self-promotion, fighting against a desire for stillness, space and privacy. The zeitgeist is beginning to favour the latter.