Going to my sisters place is fraught with danger. She’s got a large basket with newspapers, economic tidings and interior magazines. It’s the latter that contains pitfalls.
On one hand, I like to flick through others’ creativity; other ways to treat three dimensions. Bear in mind that all these magazines are worked over the same formula, and are – these days – endless pages of whitewashed walls, empty spaces and the the odd chique madonna & child, in a seemingly random combination.
Do not be fooled. The casualness is bollocks. And the fact that all the delightfully manipulated photos are taken at some unspecified holiday-lunch-time, with pale light filtered through casual fabrics the owners “picked up” in Marrakesh. Continue reading “Perfume for my x-mas tree, salt for my hair” »