Why we are craving ‘Victorian-coded’ hobbies

From knitting and embroidery to gardening and pressed flowers, a quiet rebellion against digital overload is underway.

Something is comforting about indulging in a hobby away from our screens. Knitting, gardening, baking bread, writing letters and even pressing flowers give you that sense of inner peace, away from flipping between group chats and algorithmically curated content.

In 2026, people are turning to hobbies that are ‘Victorian-coded’, and giving analogue fun a revival. On socials, you have probably seen creators document their elaborate morning tea rituals, bookshelf organisation, sewing projects, handwritten journaling and the art of slow tidying or walking. It may look aesthetic and relaxing, but it is also tied to something deeper - people need psychological grounding in tangible activities.

Research from APA has linked digital overload to increased stress, poorer concentration, and mental fatigue. When your brain is in a state of partial attention, hobbies that require slowness become less of a pastime and more of a chore. But Victorian-style hobbies are particularly appealing because they are rooted in process rather than productivity or chasing that end result. You have to nurture a plant for it to grow at its own pace, take time with a novel without distraction, and take as long as you please on a handwritten letter. They begin to force a different relationship with time.

This is known in psychology as attentional restoration. According to Attention Restoration Theory, which was developed by researchers Rachel and Stephen Kaplan, mentally fatigued brains recover when engaged in environments or activities that create ‘soft fascination’. This refers to an experience that gently holds attention without demanding cognitive overload. A classic example is gardening, which is having its moment with young people right now who are nurturing veg patches on their patios or keeping bonsais in their bedrooms.

Mid and post-pandemic, gardening had a huge resurgence. What began as a hobby to pass the time turned into a symbolic act of nurturing and taught patience in the unstable climate of COVID. Studies show that gardening is associated with reduced symptoms of anxiety and depression, improved mood and lower cortisol.

Knitting is having its own renaissance, too. Once stereotyped as your grandma’s fave pastime, it is now a trendy form of wellness. Knitting, crocheting, and embroidery have been shown to lower heart rate and induce meditative states. By repeating the rhythmic process, your nervous system becomes regulated through predictability and tactile focus.

All these hobbies are also linked to reinforcing a sense of identity. They can provide relief from the relentless pressure to perform online, and bring you away from the desire to monetise or document every activity. Reading in bed is glroiously unproductive by internet standards, but basically a magical elixir when it comes to regulating stress and calming your nervous system.

This can also tap into a broader cultural fatigue when it comes to hyper-efficiency. Self-improvement culture has sold the idea that every moment of optimism should have immediate results. But we aren’t machines! Leisurely hobbies that have no obvious output are methods of psychological protection and prevention.

The irony that these hobbies are being popularised by the very platforms we should escape is not lost on us either. But there is something to learn behind this ‘slow living’ aesthetic that offers behavioural rituals we should pay attention to.

So living in a ‘Victorian-coded’ way isn’t about corsets and companion strolls, but about wanting to be in touch with a life where attention, patience, and quiet satisfaction were an art form in and of themselves. What if we tried to pay attention to time away from battery percentage and screen-time reports, and instead did the most radical act of them all, and slowed it down?