I wish I lived in a house decorated to coordinate with my shoes. I’ve glanced at a few home magazines where they’ve positioned the owner, barefoot, thrown back on a nail head love seat, a vase of peonies on a well-appointed desk, under which, just so, sit a virtually untouched pair of fanciful shoes that somehow complete the look. “Lived in,” the designer would say of such personal touches—no, “It really humanizes the space.” As if really, without such details, we’d be left to imagine it was a hovel for storing grain or sheltering cattle.

I love mingling fabrics—a swatch of this and that. I would, if I had enough variety, organize my wardrobe by room instead of season. “Yes, these are my Wainscot clothes. Oh, that over there? Well, those are my Dexter side table pants; notice the taper?” For a date, I’ll squeeze into my powder room puff sleeves, but sometimes a girl just wants to dress like a den. Ironic that I’ve spent so much of my time dressed like a formal living room, when all I really wanted was a family room.  I’m currently a nursery that’s transitioning into an office. It’s an empty-nest look, really, except this nest is full.

Had I been interviewed for such a glossy home zine I’d boast, “I really drew my inspiration from a scarf,” as if doing so made me superior in some inferior way. “My grandmother’s scarf,” I’d elaborate. Many people are charmed by mere mention of “antique” or “vintage.” That, or they love the idea of sentimental objects, that things are there for a reason, and bonus if they stir an emotional reaction or bring a sense of history.  Sometimes it’s far too manufactured and intellectualized. Sometimes, you just wanted to add something because it felt right, or conversely, even though it serves no practical purpose and doesn’t coordinate with a room’s “mood,” you’re not giving it up. “I just like it.”  It’s hard to argue with that, and yet… I can’t help feeling as if I like and gravitate toward things that someone else tells me to like (via marketing, advertising, trends, or because “she has it, and she has good taste”). I’m a sucker for impractical touches, for white nail head sofas and rooms no one with pets or offspring can afford, no matter the price. Like shoes, some fabrics look fantastic, but they’re a bitch to wear.