FREDAGSMYS
LAGOM GOES DEEPER
I have a confession to make. When I was first sent a link to that Vogue
article, I nearly spat my coffee out. Lagom, as it happens, is not all
that glamorous and aspirational in Sweden. If you dig a little deeper,
it is quite easy to see how this love of balance and fairness and
consensus is inextr icably linked to Sweden’s long histor y of financial
redistribution and a solid social security system, insisting that there’s
a certain standard of living that we all deserve and that no one should
be left behind. Yet to those who have never known anything else,
who are so deep in the enjoyment of this system that they can’t even
see it, any notion about lagom as a guiding principle risks falling
flat, becoming little more than a promise of everyone being the same
and no one daring to stand out.
You could say that I felt that lagom would require more of a hard
sell than hygge, but it was one I was willing to take on. My book
Lagom: The Swedish Art of Balanced Living (Running Press, 2017)
was published a few months later, and endless magazine editors and
journalists asked me for top-10 lists of how to live lagom. I complied,
yet I couldn’t help but feel like we were somehow missing a trick.
Readers had become used to consuming Nordic comfort culture by
buying beautiful blankets, minimalist candle holders, and woolly
socks, and now they wanted to know how to buy into lagom. The issue,
of course, is that a lot of the time, lagom isn’t all that mad about stuff,
consumption, or even comfort. Hence, the hard sell.
A keen structuralist thinker, I took it upon myself to explain why
the fact that Swedes consistently rank among the happiest, healthiest,
and most trusting people in the world can’t be attributed simply to
the fact that they have well-designed homes and functionalist ward-
robes. I insisted on bringing the narrative from the personal to the
political, from the individual to the collective, and I talked about
generous parental-leave policies, extensive sick-leave rights, free
education, and a regulated rental market. Because, I argued, Sweden
wouldn’t be lagom —or just r ight—if the concept didn’t per meate all
of society, from the bottom up. It’s a lot easier to be happy when you
don’t have to worry about what would happen if you got ill and couldn’t
afford to go to the doctor. There’s nothing particularly cozy and
relaxing about having time on your hands if you can’t afford the child
care you need and your employer laughs at you when you bring up
flexible working.
I AM NOT POWERLESS
And yet, here I am, teaching my Swedish-Irish kids about fredagsmys
as though my life depended on it. In fact, this year, as health com-
plications forced me to slow down and the public health care system
let me down, what I found was that I am not, in fact, powerless. I may
be part of, and dependent on, a greater community and system, but
even when said system is working flawlessly, there is such a thing as
doing too much and hitting a wall; even when there isn’t, there are
things you can do to create space and catch your breath.
I started saying no to meeting friends on Friday nights; I started
doing clear-outs, giving away toys and clothes and making space; I
started going to the library and making time for reading again; and
I started going to bed earlier and enjoying more peaceful mornings.
And the more space I made, the more space I wanted.
The takeaway? You can’t build a nation that tops all happiness
indexes just by telling them to think lagom, to take regular breaks
in work and invest in better storage solutions. But at a time of 24/
Instagram notifications and an unending stream of holier-than-thou
homeopathy schemes and fad diets, there’s a lot to be said for learn-
ing to press pause,
shutting the door every
Friday evening, getting
into your loungewear,
and setting the bar at
a perfectly mediocre
lagom level.LINNEA DUNNE
is a Swedish writer,
editor, and mother
based in Dublin,
Ireland. Learn more
about Linnea, read
her blog, and buy
her books at www
.linneadunne.com.WHAT IS FREDAGSMYS?
Fredagsmys, which literally translates as “Friday cozy,” is a habit adopted by many Swedes every Friday evening after
work. It typically involves getting out of your workwear and into your loungewear, preparing some simple food such as
vegetable sticks, crisps, and dips, or Swedish-style pick-and-mix tacos, and putting on a film or bingeing on a current
Netflix favorite. A book, a board game, or some knitting can also suffice, as long as it is done for enjoyment rather than
a sense of obligation or pretense, and as long as expectations are managed so that no one feels pressured. Fredagsmys
can be a lot of things, but it is never pretentious.WHY TRY IT?
Fredagsmys is a way to connect with both yourself and your loved ones. It is a time free from homework, a night when
bedtimes can be pushed back and comfort comes first. But as the bar for what has to be achieved or ticked off is set
very low, it also becomes an opportunity to indulge in whatever it is you fancy doing most: finish that novel; catch up
on Twitter with a film you’ve already seen in the background; paint your nails; or just close your eyes and half-doze. At
a time when we are often led to believe that our value is equal to our productivity, that can be a great relief—or even a
sanity saver.Linnea Dunne. Photo by Eva Beronius.