I have never changed my mind about anything as quickly or completely as I changed my mind about adult coloring books. I found the trend mostly baffling and maybe a little dumb. But I saw some in a bookstore the other day and I immediately said to my friend, “Well, I'm not leaving here without one of these.”
And indeed, reader, I did not.
Let me clarify: When I say “adult coloring book,” I’m referring to a specific subset thereof. I don’t mean the Benedict-Cumberbatch-is-your-boyfriend coloring books or novelty coloring books based on beloved TV shows. These are silly and whimsical, and—while I am all for silly and whimsical, let’s just be clear about that—they don’t seem like they would actually be that fun to color? I mean, even if you make Barnabus Crumplecake into an alien and color his skin with polka dots or whatever, you’re still just filling in a big human head over and over. (I’m sorry, Benny, I like you and your big head. Really.)
No, I am only interested in patterns. Like these ones. Or these ones. These ones in the shapes of animals are acceptable only because the animals are made of patterns.
Several trend pieces about adult coloring books lump them in with other “childish” activities that grown-ups are apparently engaging in to regress back to their simpler youth, like adult preschool and adult summer camp. But I think they fit better into the trend of meditation and mindfulness that’s been going for some time now, one response among many to the high levels of stress many adults are living with.
book (Julie Beck / The Atlantic)
In the admittedly brief time that I have had this coloring book, it has filled a particular activity niche for me, which is “something to do with my hands while I watch Netflix.” Other activities in this niche include: knitting, painting my nails, texting, putting candy in my mouth. End of list.