Monday, March 28, 2016

The classless society

Last day of physical therapy for husband. I forgot to bring a book, but I found a magazine I hadn't seen before so I picked it up.
Architectural Digest.
Wow, what a snooty, slick, expensive publication.

I determined that I hated all the chi chi room arrangements. The décor was far beyond anything I have ever seen in any house inhabited by any human being of my social class. Yes. I admit that there may be some sort of class and I may be in it, but it sure wasn't the class pictured in this magazine.

One sofa cost $81,000. ONE LOUSY SOFA! I sincerely doubt anybody ever even sat on that sofa! The room was sterile white. White carpet. White cat. Off white sofa. No table, but some sort of prongy thing in silver on the floor. I thought it might be a fancy magazine rack, but it was empty. Or it was just art. Anyway, there was a stack of books on the floor...too pathetic to have a bookshelf, but plenty of room for a very expensive sofa.

Lots of houses with incredibly expensive and sterile everything. Kitchens of stainless steel, clean as a whistle, a wine cooler the only sign that it was even used...certainly no dirty dishes in the sink, but the very best granite countertops. Everything gleamed and glistened from sunlight pouring through floor to ceiling windows.

The bedrooms, however, were aflame in reds and orange. Who could sleep with those colors blazing around the platform bed? Again, books on the floor and no shelves. I now think there must be libraries in these houses because the owners are getting the books from somewhere and the maid servants have yet to put them back.

I don't want a house like that. I want a home, full of love and laughter. Tons of neat crap that ought to be thrown away, books on shelves and on bathroom floors. Signs of life...not picture perfect abominations. I want to live, not be part of a spread in a magazine.

It's a pity that there are houses like this. I feel sorry for the help.

2 comments:

  1. Yeah, I've seen those snobby photos before myself. Its just like the fashions that walk the runway every Spring. Everyone looks at them but nobody buys them because they are too outrageous. Give me a "lived in home" any day. And even though I have book shelves in my room, I do put my books on the floor when I am reading them and I don't care what anybody thinks about it. It feels right to me.

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  2. I think that the people who own those homes are rarely in them. Or they have a secret spring-operated door (must be fireplace since there are no bookshelves)that opens into a room where they can take their shoes off and eat chocolate on the sofa without considering stains. OTOH, they may just be so rich that a stained $81K sofa would be like: "I'll just tell my assistant to pick another one up at lunch."

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