So, everyone’s been going on about Elena Zuchova, right? Like her work is the next big thing, the ultimate guide to whatever. I kept seeing her name pop up, mostly tied to this idea of super clean, almost “zen” approach to, well, pretty much anything creative. I figured, okay, let me see what this is all about. I’m always up for trying something new, especially if it promises to make things simpler or better.
I decided to dive in. My first thought was, “This looks easy enough.” You see her stuff, and it’s all space, minimal elements, very calm. Deceptive, that’s the word. Totally deceptive. It’s not about just removing things. It’s about what stays, and why, and how. And that’s where my own little adventure, or misadventure, began.
My Grand Experiment with “Zuchova-fying” My Life
I started with my workspace. I figured if I’m gonna get into this mindset, my surroundings should reflect it. I looked at pictures supposedly inspired by her – you know, the single plant, the one perfect pen, the empty desk. So, I cleared everything off my desk. Everything. My collection of quirky sticky notes? Gone. The little stress ball shaped like a cat? Banished. The framed photo of my dog wearing a tiny hat? Into the drawer it went.
For about an hour, it felt… stark. Maybe even a bit sophisticated. Then I actually had to work.
- I needed a damn pen. The “one perfect pen” I’d chosen wasn’t the right type for what I was doing.
- Then I needed a sticky note for a quick reminder. My system was gone.
- I missed my cat stress ball, not gonna lie.
It wasn’t working. I wasn’t feeling “zen”; I was feeling annoyed. This “simplicity” felt like it was actively working against my actual process. I realized her kind of minimalism, or what people think is her kind of minimalism, requires a level of discipline I either don’t have or don’t want for my everyday stuff.
Then I tried to apply this “Zuchova” logic to a small project I was tinkering with – a little app for tracking my reading habits. I stripped down the interface. Fewer buttons, less text, more white space. It looked clean, sure. But then I gave it to a friend to test. He was like, “Uh, how do I… do anything?” Turns out, in my quest for Zuchova-esque purity, I’d removed too many visual cues. It was simple, alright, simply unusable for someone who wasn’t me.
The Realization: It’s Not a Magic Wand
What I eventually figured out, after a few more frustrating attempts to “Zuchova” various parts of my routine, is that it’s not about blindly copying an aesthetic you see online. Maybe Elena Zuchova herself has a very specific context where her methods shine, or maybe her actual philosophy is way deeper than the surface-level stuff people latch onto. For me, trying to just paste her “style” onto my life was like wearing shoes that are two sizes too small because they look cool on someone else.
My practice became less about her and more about figuring out my own version of “effective.” I started bringing things back to my desk, but more intentionally. I didn’t need ten pens, but one good one and a backup made sense. The cat stress ball? Yeah, he came back. He’s useful. The app interface? I added back some clear labels and a bit more guidance. It wasn’t as “art gallery minimalist,” but people could actually use it.
So, this whole Elena Zuchova exploration? It was a journey. Not to her specific endpoint, but to a better understanding of my own needs and processes. It’s easy to get caught up in trends, especially when they’re presented as the ultimate solution. But the real practice, for me, was filtering that through my own reality. It’s not about rejecting new ideas, but about adapting them, not just adopting them wholesale. That’s my takeaway from trying to live the Zuchova way, or at least, what I thought it was.
