In the idyllic setting of Ballerina Farm, Hannah Neeleman, and her family seem to have stepped out of a time machine. Life on the ‘gram that looks like a sepia-toned Sunday in the 1800s with a sprinkle of cottagecore charm. They bake rustic bread, hand-milk cows, and share their charming farmhouse lifestyle with 8 million online followers. Stars of a show where the past is always present, and the simple life is a stage, set in their charming farmhouse.
Hannah and her husband Daniel are billionaires, heirs to the JetBlue Airlines fortune. The Neeleman’s world is a stage, and they are the stars of a performance that captivates and confounds. With one hand, they plow the fields, and with the other, they navigate the complex corridors of wealth.
With van lifers. What was once the calling card of adventurous bohemians is now the domain of the trust-fund wanderlust crowd. Your old beat-up van’s been traded for a rolling luxury condo, with the rustic charm carefully engineered by some top-notch designers.
YouTube’s now awash with this crowd, because why keep all this faux-simple life to yourself when you can vlog about it? You’ve got farmhouse folks kneading dough for the camera and van lifers giving tours of their custom walnut interiors. It’s like poverty cosplay for the One Percenters.
I’m not out here throwing stones at the Neeleman family or the glampers of the van life. Nah, this is just a head-scratch over a phenomenon as old as time but now with more Wi-Fi: the co-opting of poverty as a look, a trend, a lifestyle choice.
Historical Pretense
Marie Antoinette, the last queen of France, famously built a peasant village in her backyard, where she would play-act a simple life before returning to her royal existence.
The Hameau de la Reine was constructed between 1783 and 1787 on the grounds of the Château de Versailles. It was designed by the architect Richard Mique and was intended to be a place where the Queen and her close friends could escape the rigid formalities of court life.
The village consisted of various buildings, including a farmhouse, dairy, and mill, all built in a rustic style. The architecture and landscaping were carefully designed to evoke a romanticized version of rural life. There were also gardens, ponds, and farm animals, and the buildings were fully functional, producing dairy products and other goods.
Marie Antoinette and her companions would dress in simple, pastoral clothing and engage in activities such as milking cows, tending to the gardens, and enjoying leisurely walks. These activities were a far cry from the elaborate rituals and ceremonies of the French court.
However, the story has been criticized by some historians as a symbol of Marie Antoinette’s detachment from the realities of French society at the time. While the country was facing financial difficulties and widespread poverty, the Queen’s indulgence in this fantasy world was seen by some as insensitive and extravagant.
Her village was a pastoral Pinterest board, filled with milkmaids, farmhouses, and gardens. A symbol of detachment from reality? Maybe. But hey, faux-farming was all the rage back then.
Hameau de la Reine was not entirely unique for its time. The idea of creating pastoral retreats within royal gardens was a fashionable trend among European aristocracy in the 18th century. These retreats were often inspired by the works of Rousseau and other Enlightenment thinkers, who idealized the simplicity and virtue of rural life. Though possibly an urban legend, this story resonates with truth.
Roman Emperor Hadrian constructed a villa in Tivoli that included areas designed to mimic rural life, including a “Maritime Theatre” that resembled a rustic villa. He often retreated to this location to escape the pressures of ruling and enjoy the serenity of a pastoral setting.
Nero’s Domus Aurea (“Golden House”) in Rome was a sprawling complex with an artificial lake, gardens, and buildings that replicated countryside vistas. The most outrageous feature was a ceiling in the main dining room, designed to rotate like the heavens, dropping perfume and flower petals on the guests below.
In our era, Kim Kardashian’s milkmaid photoshoot and luxury brands like Balenciaga selling “dirty” shoes for thousands of dollars reflect the “fake poor” trend. This can also be seen in the phenomenon of van life, where affluence gentrifies homelessness. Like mentioned above.
The CEO of Urban Outfitters Richard Hayne, went so far as to describe his core customer as an upscale homeless person. Pinterest boards with “Homeless fairy core ideas” & “Homeless aesthetic” are not uncommon fashion phrases.
In 2017 at New York Fashion Week. N.Hoolywood’s Creative Lead Daisuke Obana, presented a real-life version of Zoolander’s “Derelicte,” inspired by the homeless. Attendees sat on mismatched wooden chairs, witnessing models portraying a poverty-stricken aesthetic, a dissonant display of “inventiveness” that was tone-deaf and unsettling to many.
The generally acknowledged start of homeless chic began over 20 years ago with the 2000 couture collection for Christian Dior. Designed by Gibraltarian-Spanish fashion designer John Galliano, who is now the creative director of Maison Margiela, this collection was inspired by the people Galliano had seen while jogging in France, wearing clothing that was ripped and aged to look worn and unclean. This collection gained positive reception, and it seemed that other famous figures and fashion companies took notice and began creating their own “poverty chic” lines.
The actress Gwenyth Paltrow attempted to live on a food stamp budget for a week, a challenge she ultimately failed. While her intention was to raise awareness, critics argued that her attempt trivialized the daily struggles of those who rely on food stamps. A well-intended misstep in the great dance of pretending to be just like us.
Several celebrities, including Ben Affleck and Hugh Jackman, have participated in the “Live Below the Line” campaign, trying to live on $1.50 a day to understand global poverty. Some have criticized it as oversimplifying the complex issues tied to poverty.
Orlando Bloom visited slums in India as a UNICEF ambassador. While his intentions were likely genuine, “slum tourism” has been criticized for treating poverty as an experience to explore rather than a complex issue requiring systemic solutions.
On TV in the early 2000s there was “The Simple Life,” where two socialites, Paris Hilton, and Nicole Richie, trade their silver spoons for shovels and designer dresses for overalls. It’s a comedy, a tragedy, a farce wrapped in a paradox, served on your flat-screen TV.
Much of the show’s humor was derived from the ineptitude of Hilton and Richie in these environments, their misunderstandings, and the clash of their glamorous personas with mundane reality. The fish-out-of-water comedy played out in each episode as they struggled with tasks that were second nature to the average person.
Their approach to work was often seen as careless or naive. For example, during a stint at a dairy farm, they were horrified by the idea of waking up early and doing physical labor. Their attempts to milk cows and perform other farm duties were often clumsy and not effective.
Their attitude towards the lifestyles and people they encountered was often seen as condescending or superficial. They approached many of the tasks and experiences as novelties rather than essential aspects of many people’s daily lives
Nicole and Paris often appeared insensitive or clueless about the lives of the people around them. In one episode, Paris asked a child if they liked being poor.
The Reasons Behind the Trend
- Exceptionalism: In a productivity-driven world, doing nothing becomes a status symbol. Complete detachment is a hallmark of the wealthy. If you’re rich, you can pull off detachment as if it’s your job. Well, not YOUR job. Someone else’s, surely.
- Acceptance and Respect: By feigning struggle, the rich seek validation and respect, attempting to demonstrate hard-earned wealth, though often missing the mark.
- Ethical Considerations: Dressing as the poor is morally questionable. It misrepresents real struggles, diminishes focus on genuine issues, and normalizes poverty.
Misleading Representation of a Real Struggle
Poverty is not just a lack of material wealth but a daily battle for necessities like food, shelter, and healthcare. Superficial portrayals can lead to misunderstandings of what poverty truly means.
Romanticizing Poverty
Presenting poverty as something easily adopted and discarded risks glorification. Such views are naïve and disrespectful, trivializing the real challenges and suffering of financial hardship.
Diminishing Attention on Real Issues
Focusing on individual experiences of ‘playing poor’ diverts attention from systemic problems like income inequality and inadequate healthcare, hindering serious engagement with the root causes of poverty.
The Reality of Poverty
Poverty isn’t a necessity, nor is it universally escapable through hard work. The narrative that romanticizes poverty places undue responsibility on individuals, ignoring systemic factors that trap people in financial hardship. While hard work is vital, it’s not a guaranteed escape from poverty. Many work multiple jobs and still face financial struggles, overlooking barriers like lack of education, healthcare, and fair wages.
Romanticizing Poverty
Portraying the poor as noble or more ‘authentic’ leads to misunderstandings of the daily struggles and fears of financial instability, trivializing real suffering.
Individual Responsibility vs. Systemic Culpability
Focusing on personal shortcomings rather than systemic failures ignores the fact that poverty often results from entrenched inequalities like discrimination and inadequate social safety nets. Blaming people for poverty without looking at the system is like yelling at a plant for not growing in the dark.
The Risk of Acceptance
Perhaps the most insidious effect is the subtle message that poverty is an unchangeable condition rather than a societal failure that can and should be addressed.
You might think this is a bleak picture I’m painting, but failing to recognize real struggles and work to change them will lead to complacency, perpetuating poverty, and undermining efforts.
The wealthy have a safety net, a cushion of resources that allows them the freedom to choose, to experiment with lifestyles that to others are not a choice but a harsh reality.
And what’s the cost? Lives stalled, dreams shattered, and a cycle that never seems to end. It’s not just about the money; it’s about dignity, opportunity.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to iron my faux-distressed, artisan-crafted handkerchief, woven by the light of the silvery moon and stitched together by the tears of heartbroken poets. It’s part of my “struggling writer” ensemble.
