AT what point does a room go from cute and cosy to bridging the wrong side of messy? It is a question I have been pondering ever since tumbling down a rabbit hole on social media platform TikTok and becoming obsessed by the “cluttercore” trend.

The maximalism mode of decor embraces an aesthetic where every available surface is covered with an eclectic mix of knick-knacks, trinkets, baubles and other curios.

Think of it as the flotsam and jetsam of life set out on proud display – rather than being shoved into the loft or hidden away at the back of the hall cupboard as many folks are wont to do.

This take on “more is more” centres largely on sentimental or nostalgic items: it is fun and unabashedly kooky, rather than cloyingly chic. Popular objects include vintage toys, illustrated books, postcards, colourful tea towels and snow globes.

Some proponents view it as a way of celebrating their “authentic” self in a world where social media is awash with fake perfection. To date, the hashtag #cluttercore has garnered 68.3 million views on TikTok.

An unlikely poster girl for cluttercore is Princess Anne who last year shared a photograph of herself watching the Calcutta Cup on TV – she is patron of Scottish Rugby Union – and gave a glimpse into her gloriously hotchpotch living room.

Family photographs in mismatched frames jostled for space next to porcelain figurines, horse-riding memorabilia, heirlooms, stacked tomes and clashing fabrics. Put simply, it was sublime.

Having spent most of my adult life coveting pristine neatness and order in my surroundings, I’ve been making a determined effort to try and let go a little in recent times.

Maybe it doesn’t matter if there are a few crumbs on the coffee table? Perhaps that book doesn’t need to go straight back on the shelf? Could worrying a bit less about the wet towels left lying on the bathroom floor spark joy?

That said, there is undoubtedly a thin line between a carefully curated assemblage of much-beloved possessions and what might be deemed a chaotic midden.

By stumbling across cluttercore, I may have found a happy medium. I am arguably already halfway there given the mishmash of furniture styles – mid-century sideboards alongside stripped farmhouse pine tables and ancient Ikea Billy bookcases – that co-exist within my home.

Then there is what one friend teasingly refers to as my “rural vibe” – a penchant for duvet sets, cushion covers and fluffy blankets emblazoned with woodland animal motifs – which, granted, is a slightly hilarious quirk given I live on the edge of a Lanarkshire commuter town, rather than in rolling countryside.

I collect mismatched teacups and saucers from charity shops, the sort you get for 50p because the rest of the set is missing. It always strikes me that these were once treasured pieces that meant something to someone. My dining room is fast resembling a rescue sanctuary for abandoned crockery.

Cluttercore is cheerful, uplifting and good for the soul. There is a lot to be said for throwing off the shackles and embracing the eccentricities that run through us all.