Snuff out the tea lights and stick the hearthrugs back in the attic. It is official: hygge, the Danish “art” of cosy living, is as past-it as the Tory manifesto.



For those of us who regard making the bed as a “lifestyle statement”, the news is not good, because in 2017 its place will be filled by the far more demanding Japanese art of ikigai: think feng shui (remember that?) with Venn diagrams – although this time there is no need to move the front door.

With all the pseudo-scientific trappings necessary for a must-follow lifestyle hack, ikigai makes hygge look like a trip to Ikea. Claiming that ikigai, rather than sushi, seaweed or a decent health service is why many Japanese people live to 100, its basic message is about “authentic living”.

Practitioners must fill in overlapping circles that cover motivation, fulfilment, what they earn and what improves their life. The answer at the centre will be the key to a happy and long life, whether one cleans trains or owns railways.

From this autumn, a trickle of books on the concept is expected to turn into a flood, led by Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life from Héctor García and Francesc Miralles and The Little Book of Ikigai by bona fide neuroscientist Ken Mogi.

Not that the Scandinavians are giving up the lifestyle market without a fight. Austere times demand an austere philosophy, so hygge’s frankly soft excesses are to be ditched in favour of the ascetic theory of lagom, a Swedish expression for “living with just enough”.

Lagom has already been heralded by Elle magazine as the “must-follow trend for 2017”; now publishers are stepping in with handy guides. Over the next two months, among others on the way, will be Linnea Dunne’s Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living, Lola A Åkerström’s Lagom: The Secret of Living Well, and Live Lagom: Balanced Living, the Swedish Way by Anna Brones. One question they are unlikely to answer is how many lifestyle guides are “just enough”.

Still, if these three don’t take off, there are plenty more going after the lifestyle shilling. For instance, the 150-year-old Norwegian philosophy of friluftsliv, which translates as “free air life”. Or camping, as I like to call it. Practitioners say it’s more complex than that, and though it covers everything from walking and dancing outdoors to sleeping under the stars, it is in some profound way about communing with nature.

As every yin has its yang, the Japanese have their own version of friluftsliv. In this case shinrin-yoku, literally “forest bathing”. Followers claim it is backed by “real” science, using phytoncides, which plants use to keep away pests and fungi.

According to Catie Leary of the Mother Nature’s Network website: “These chemicals are scientifically proven to lower blood pressure, relieve stress and boost the growth of cancer-fighting white blood cells.”

So far, so cosy, but one lifestyle concept sounds more like an episode of The Bridge than a feelgood way of creating a “new you for the new year”. Swedish Death Cleansing, or Dostadning, is strictly for the living and appears to offer all the fun of dying without actually doing so.

According to expert Margareta Magnusson, it involves putting your life in order so that your relatives do not have to; from giving bequests to deciding how you wish to be remembered. But given our society’s horror of talking about the undiscovered country, I can’t see it catching on. In fact, rather than think of life after I’ve gone, can you pass me a blanket? I need a hygge.