When I think “minimalism,” I’m picturing a white room containing clean-lined furniture with almost nothing on it—an artsy coffee-table book, a lamp, sometimes a plant. Its couch is leather, floor sometimes concrete, a cool color temperature.

But then I watch someone with a kitchy Tiny House bathed in natural light bouncing off the warm wood, visible “stuff” on every surface. Not what you might call “minimal.” But, indisputably, someone living in a Tiny House is—must be—a minimalist. There isn’t space to not be.

There’s a difference between minimalism as a philosophy and minimalism as an aesthetic. The philosophy is about owning things that matter to you; having things that are useful and meaningful, not just filling your space. The aesthetic is, well, like an Apple Store or something.

Too many people have been swept up in the aesthetic (which gives us movements like cottage-core, a push against the aesthetic) while forgetting about the philosohpy that leads to that aesthetic.

You can be a minimalist in a whimsical bungalow just as well as a high-rise, over-priced, industrial condo. It doesn’t have to be ascetic to count.

Minimalism is about intention.