October 20, 2006
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Why do interior decorators....I beg your humble pardon, I mean interior designers (there's a question: are there any "interior decorators" left, or have they gone the way of the dodo?)....do such peculiar things?
This morning I was assigned to the Bird's Eye Maple Bedroom, which featured, what else, bird's eye maple. I've never run across it before, at least not that I can recall, and just loved it. Unfortunately, it's what's nowadays called a nonrenewable resource, seeing as how the distinctive mottling was caused by insect damage, and DDT made the insects vanish.
No insects, no insect damage; no insect damage, no bird's eye maple.
But I digress. It's a charming room, with a gorgeous fireplace surround of carved BEM, as well as molding around the doors, windows, and ceiling, plus the original BEM armoire owned by Electra Wharton. The lighting fixture was also original, dating to 1903, and while the wallpaper wasn't original, it was the color they know had been used in that room (a robin's egg blue), and a registered historical pattern that was in use at that time. I don't remember all the ins and outs, but they're quite confidant if it's not the same color and pattern, it's near enough as makes no difference.
So what does the designer put into this room which has been designated as a true historical restoration?
An art-deco style, black four-poster bed with straight posts. And modern, crystal lamps. And the coup de grace, a painting of red and rust polka dots over the bed, valued at $6,000 (though I can't imagine who'd pay it, never mind it's made of oil and flock).
Mind, there were some lovely touches, and the designer did a truly marvelous job with the window treatments, but the bed, lamps, and especially that painting didn't fit the room.
Didn't hear one single positive comment about that painting. Not one. It was universally loathed by the visitors, at least placed in that room. How did the designer not know everyone would hate it?
However, that was nothing compared to the library, I believe it was. In that room, which has beautiful swag molding and dark wood, the designer chose to dump a tiger skin rug, a painting of a dog wearing a suit, and the most singularly peculiar chess or checkers set (couldn't tell which it was) I've ever seen, made of brightly colored spun glass with weird faces on top. Yesterday afternoon I overheard a visitor - all the way up in the Master's Retreat - criticizing it as ugly and unsuitable. By golly, that visitor was right as rain. It was utterly hideous. Can't even think of where it might look good, never mind the Thistle Hill library.
Are designers so totally out of touch with ordinary people that they truly believe they're going to stroll through that Colonial Revival house, get a gander of the tiger skin rug, dog in a suit, and plug-ugle chess set, and immediately think "Oooh, I need this designer's card!"?
Comments (2)
Ooo, oo, teacher, I know the answer:
Yes! They are!
It's a pity, then, to think of the amount of time and money they've invested in that Showhouse.
According to the designer of the BEM room, she "integrated" (can't simply say "used", naturally) the modern bits as as to provide "interest and excitement."
Huh. Well, people were certainly interested in a "What on EARTH was the designer thinking?" sort of way, and a couple of 'em got quite excited about it, but they didn't express any noticeable desire to let her get her mitts on their house.
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