On this episode of, “Stop buying shit at Home Goods, Gretchen. You can’t fill that hole in your heart with home decor. Brad is sleeping with his best friend Howard, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can start living, laughing and learning to love again.” – we have this ridiculous metaphor of a loveless marriage.
In olden times (pre-1993), you had the venerable fruit bowl. Now, stay with me, this gets tricky. It was a bowl, on a table or counter, filled with fruit. That you could eat. Fruit is amazing because it smells nice, looks great, and feeds you and your family.
The thing nobody ever tells you about fruit is that it goes bad. So fast. And as it rots in your living room, it attracts flies. Do you know how many nectarines I have to buy before I remember to eat one? The answer is 7.
So to get around this, at some point, someone thought of creating glass fruit for your bowl. It had a glassy sheen that seemed to glow in a modern decor. It wasn’t functional and provided a non-zero amount of nutritional value. But it was a high end choice, and it looked nice, if a bit reductionist.
Eventually humanity started to feel the effects of all the leaded paint we were eating at the time. Some bright ingot looked at that glass fruit and thought “WATHT IF ITWAS PLARESTIC” and then leaned over a railing and shit out some plastic fruit for a bowl.
No longer was it a glowing delicate piece of hand crafted glass art. Now it was a blown up version of a child’s toy collecting dust on your coffee table, forever.
This coincided with the rise of “farmhouse” as an aesthetic. Suddenly, this faux fruit, in it’s rustic hornet’s nest of a basket, was seen as a charming accent piece that told your friends and family “WE FARM! ENJOY OUR PLASTIC!”
I don’t want to go off on a full Farmhouse rant right now, but, you know what makes you look like a farmer? Real fucking fruit, you god damn idiot! I need to calm down.
In short order, plastic fruit was revealed for what it is. Actual garbage you keep on your counter, but Farmhouse style was here to stay. So what did people turn to next?
So yeah. Wood. I mean. I don’t hate it, but I don’t like it. It misses the point of adding a splash of color to your room. It’s better than plastic in every way, for sure, but it has no color, no life, and no vibrancy. Just a bowl of dust and wood. I don’t know what this says about you, but it can’t be anything good.
Which brings us to the bowl of wood balls. Did someone watch Spike Jonze version of “Where the Wild Things Are” and go “Yes! That’s what I want! On my coffee table!”
Good decor should tell your guests something about you. I have a Patrick Nagel book, six “how-to” boudoir photography books, and a the collected works of Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell. This tells you that I’m a half-grown child who loves boobs and big hair.
What does a bowl of wood and twine balls say about you? I’m a depressed cat who hasn’t slept with her husband since Obama was President?
If your decor doesn’t tell me something about you, don’t have it. If you really are a depressed cat, please see a pet psychic. They have big hair.