Shelf effacement: how not to organise your bookshelves

Talk about spineless: the new trend in home decor is backward-looking – literally. If you're in search of a storage solution that won't mar the boring – sorry "neutral" –

look of a beige colour scheme, simply turn your books spines in, pages out. Back in October, design blog Apartment Therapy shared one of these backwards bookshelves on its Instagram

account, with advice for emulating the look. ("Books don't match your decor? Don't fret … Flip them for a perfectly coordinated look.") US morning show Today called it

"a beautiful thing to try", and, naturally, it's all over Pinterest. Another silly American idea, you might be thinking, like compressing marshmallows into a jar and calling

it sandwich spread, or teasing Kim Jong-un about his nuclear capability. But it's taken hold internationally, too: recently, comedian Pete Otway spotted (and mocked) an image in Ideal

Home magazine taken in one couple's ultra-minimalist home. There on the bookshelf, next to a tripod lamp and white bookends spelling out "J & L", were two rows of

paperbacks, with the pages facing out ("Lauren keeps the look neutral by stacking books back to front"). More than a thousand people responded passionately, variously suggesting

that Lauren was an "android", a "monster", or worse – a non-reader. A little extreme, perhaps. But I can't fault their passion. I'm not against incorporating

books into a decorating scheme. Organising them by colour so that shelves resemble a rainbow is cheerful, LGBTQ-friendly and, for those of us with visual memories, an excellent way to

remember whether Sarah Waters is closer to Donna Tartt or Kate Atkinson. I also love the inventiveness of making a low-cost Christmas "tree" out of books, and even came to accept,

circa 2011, that hordes of people wanted to stack their books in their (hopefully non-functional) fireplaces. But those shelving methods add colour and interest to a person's life –

much like literature – rather than treating books as nothing more than wallpaper. It may also lead your guests to assume you're hiding something (EL James's entire oeuvre? A pile

of Cameron on Cameron remainders?) and you'll have to put the kibosh on lending books unless you're happy to ask for 48 hours' notice so you can track them down. Some

non-neurotypical people have pointed out that turning books around can help those who might otherwise find their immediate environment overstimulating. I'm not knocking that. But

let's not pretend that interior designers, stylists, and members of the public keen to show off their homes have embraced this fad for any reason other than to be aggressively quirky.

But Lauren the android monster cannot be held solely responsible for the trend – and nor can we blame any living interior decorator. According to Mark Purcell, deputy director of Research

Collections at the University of Cambridge, until the 18th century, the convention was to display every book with their pages turned out and the author's name printed across them. Then

some bright spark suggested an embossed spine might look better, and what became known as "The Great Turnaround" began. Let's hope a "Grand Flipover" isn't upon

us.