What do you do?
Pity my beloved wife. A lot of her pals will come up to her and gush how lucky she is to have married a guy who does all the cooking, who will take the offspring whenever she disappears into the underbrush of gala chairpersonship, who does not shrug--making soft, preoccupied micro-grunting sounds all the while--while she ponders new curtains or coffee tables. She has been hailed by her pals as some sort of minor deity for having picked a guy who likes to shop, likes clothes, offers sage opinions on what is flattering and unflattering; a guy who is not fixated on NASCAR* or football.
She just rolls her eyes and snorts a derisive laugh. She doesn't actually say this, but she is almost certainly thinking "Fuck you. YOU take him if this kind of husband is so bloody wonderful."
The truth of the matter, dear friends, is that there is a dark underbelly to this arrangement. If one is married to a guy who just approves, quite absentmindedly, any decorative item you wish to place in your home then it doesn't matter what his tastes are. The same applies to your choices in clothing. Heaven help you if the guy in question is clever and mouthy. You could very well spend your entire marriage hearing things like:
"It looks like someone shot and skinned a love seat to make that jacket."
"Why would someone make furniture in Braille?"
"If pimps had debutante balls, this would be their first choice."
"Those shoes look like the something from the Brazilian road company of Lysistrata."
Of course, the matter is moot if everyone's tastes are in synchrony. The overlap is great and chasms are but mere cracks on the sidewalk along the road of wedded bliss. The fact of the matter (and the reason you've read this far down) is my wife and I manage to check off all of these items on the list. What would you do, kind reader, if you had married some smartass who loved Bauhaus, while your heart held a soft spot for Rococo? You'd go mad, is what you'd do.
These differences are revealed to their fullest whenever we go furniture shopping. Example: We are still using our "starter" dining room set and, after 12 years, it's not only looking dated and a bit tired and small, but it is also out of sync with the architecture of our residence, "Fallback House"**. Now, this house's architecture is a tropicalized (better yet, tropically bastardized) Arts 'n' Crafts and, while this is nowhere near my fave style, I am sensitive both to what is period-appropriate and also to what architecture appropriate. My wife apparently defaults to what would be, in her opinion, "pretty." I haven't gotten a straight answer on the matter yet, but I suspect "pretty" is synonymous with things riddled with scrolls, foliations, gadroon borders, fluting, crenellations and, if one is lucky, cherubs and/or seraphs...ideally, all gilded***.
So you can imagine how things go when we go looking for something. Let's stick with the example of the dining room. First we have to discard all the features we cannot stand:
*** It is my contention those who wish to fashion themselves a dwelling like Versailles, wind up with a place like Graceland.
She just rolls her eyes and snorts a derisive laugh. She doesn't actually say this, but she is almost certainly thinking "Fuck you. YOU take him if this kind of husband is so bloody wonderful."
The truth of the matter, dear friends, is that there is a dark underbelly to this arrangement. If one is married to a guy who just approves, quite absentmindedly, any decorative item you wish to place in your home then it doesn't matter what his tastes are. The same applies to your choices in clothing. Heaven help you if the guy in question is clever and mouthy. You could very well spend your entire marriage hearing things like:
"It looks like someone shot and skinned a love seat to make that jacket."
"Why would someone make furniture in Braille?"
"If pimps had debutante balls, this would be their first choice."
"Those shoes look like the something from the Brazilian road company of Lysistrata."
Of course, the matter is moot if everyone's tastes are in synchrony. The overlap is great and chasms are but mere cracks on the sidewalk along the road of wedded bliss. The fact of the matter (and the reason you've read this far down) is my wife and I manage to check off all of these items on the list. What would you do, kind reader, if you had married some smartass who loved Bauhaus, while your heart held a soft spot for Rococo? You'd go mad, is what you'd do.
These differences are revealed to their fullest whenever we go furniture shopping. Example: We are still using our "starter" dining room set and, after 12 years, it's not only looking dated and a bit tired and small, but it is also out of sync with the architecture of our residence, "Fallback House"**. Now, this house's architecture is a tropicalized (better yet, tropically bastardized) Arts 'n' Crafts and, while this is nowhere near my fave style, I am sensitive both to what is period-appropriate and also to what architecture appropriate. My wife apparently defaults to what would be, in her opinion, "pretty." I haven't gotten a straight answer on the matter yet, but I suspect "pretty" is synonymous with things riddled with scrolls, foliations, gadroon borders, fluting, crenellations and, if one is lucky, cherubs and/or seraphs...ideally, all gilded***.
So you can imagine how things go when we go looking for something. Let's stick with the example of the dining room. First we have to discard all the features we cannot stand:
- Non-upholstered chairs (no rush seats, no seats with tied-on cushions, etc.)
- Too small--our current table seats six WITH ALL THE LEAVES IN PLACE--or too large (seating 8 is ideal)
- Nothing distressed (call me haute bourgeouis; all the construction workers do it anyway so I'm used to it)
- Nothing that cannot be adjusted for size
- No pedestal tables
- Nothing without a server and china cabinet
This list, naturally, serves as a pretty severe winnowing fan. So, for example, when we were at the Crate & Barrel flagship in Chicago, off I went one way and she another and I came back with things like this table/chair combo and matching buffet whereas she was thinking more along the lines of this and this. The same happens at Room & Board, Pottery Barn, Bombay Company (etc.) as well as all the furniture emporia exclusive to Miami. Not much middle ground, huh?
-J.
* Although LeMans is another matter.
** The name emerged when the deal for the house I really wanted fell through and this was our 2nd choice.*** It is my contention those who wish to fashion themselves a dwelling like Versailles, wind up with a place like Graceland.
Comments
I regret that I can't extend it to TFBYM, because while you may have strong opinions about what should be purchased for and displayed in your abode, you at least CAN cook and WILL shop. My spousal unit, on the other hand, has all of the former opinions but none of the latter skills/desires. Woe is I.
So how nice that it's Joke's fault. Or Crate and Barrel's.
And of course, being of the opinionated persuasion, I demand that this be rectified forthwith!!! If not sooner.
--P.
-J.
Our dining room table (upon which DH and I miraculously agreed) is very similar in shape/style to your pick, including the tapered/slightly curved legs, except that ours is oak with a honey finish. And also, including the 10 chairs, buffet and hutch, it cost about as much as my college tuition. But it's damn pretty!
But, in all honesty, I have to admit I like your choices better, Joke.
--jujube