Perfume for my x-mas tree, salt for my hair
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. 
Still – I flick through these glossed pages, and laugh at the lack of convictions, and the wall to ceiling bookcases containing only white books (‘cos it matches the interior, you see).
And then, there is a piece on christmas aromas… or whatever. Ralph Lauren, to my horror, creates christmas scents. To perfume your xmas tree. I gag. But it gets worse. The curiously anonymous gentleman interviewed, proudly says that the scents are only stocked by a few shops around the world and only sell to a few select customers. One shop is apparently in London, and they call him when a new scent arrives. So that he can dash over… and spend a ridiculous amount of money on a tiny flagon of fashion.
I deeply wish I hadn’t read it. This is too much information.
I’ve been told that there is a hair product that gives your hair the “beach look”. Cool, eh? How?
Salt. Salt water. I kicked myself when I heard it – this is genius, this is selling sand in Sahara. This is the final proof that people are idiots, and that they’ll buy anything. Sand in Sahara indeed. Also, I was told that “if you use too much, you hair gets a little…ermm .. ” salty!? …kind of when you’ve been swimming in salt water…. kind of. There’s a surprise.
It makes me despair.
I get a certain feeling of fall-of-the-roman-empire when I hear these things. I try to shield myself from too much of this, but sometimes, some things slips under the radar. We are simply so decadently bored and occupied with trivialities beyond measure, that we can conceive of, produce, design, package, transport, sell and buy this stuff… in reality, or metaphorically. Or worse, spend a few hundred quid to go to London to buy it. It makes me reel in horror.
Wandering around in a dressing gown guzzling champagne all day, sighing in a dramatic manner simply doesn’t stand up to this. Decadence without…. without what? Style? Class? Art? History? Meaning?
Dumbing down never had it so good. Idiocracy is a documentary.
Laugh or cry?
Forgive them not, for they know what they do.
Find five faults – or more (article here )
A little note on interior magazines b’shit. In fact, my little cabin in the woods where subjected to this treatment, after I moved out. The tiny kitchen. They are going to tear down the cabin, so some interior twat took the opportunity to repaint, rebuild part of the kitchen for the benefit of a few pics and a laughable article. Have a good look at the eight-picture series.
Here’s what’s wrong:
* The sink is not connected to any water supply or drain. If it was connected, the cute little shelf with baskets would have a nasty pipe going through it. It is not possible to camouflage pipes it behind the wall, as there’s a massive fireplace. The tap is not even glued in place, neither is the sink.
* There’s not room enough for the gas tank under the sink. And anyway, there should be orange gas pipes sticking out. In fact, I doubt the gas top is a gas top.
* The lid for the chimney, a crucial thing for cleaning, is impossible to open, as the bench with gas top blocks it.
* Hardly possible to go through the door because of the knobs. They dismantled the whole thing after taking the pictures to get out the door, and left it in bits there. The cabin will be torn down soon.
* They have removed the floor from the pictures, or thrown rugs over it. It is painted linoleum, cracked, split, peeled, with severely water damaged floorboards showing through.
* They have ‘missed’ the awful lamp in the ceiling, and the pre-war bakelite light switches and very dodgy cabling. Good idea.
* Some of the photos are taken from outside, as the room is simply not big enough… with the kitchen door open to give that magic sunday-lunch light.
* The curtain was attached with staples. And you cannot open the cupboards with the curtain raised.
They tell you you could do this yourself in a day.
Everybody lies.
