I just turned off the television. I watched a few programs about houses. People looking for them, selling them, redoing them, and foreclosing on them. I had a little lunch. Then I opened a magazine. More houses. These were designed by world famous architects and decorators. They were all very, very nice. Very, very, chic.
I’m confused. Back in the olden days, when people had servants, and nobody with maids had to worry about keeping things clean, no one had much white. Floors were wood. Kitchens had dark linoleum. People kept their velvet drapes closed. I don’t know what those maids did all day, because dust and dirt would be barely visible.
Nowadays, no one has help. No one I know, anyway. So what is with all the white stuff? Just open a catalog: white sofas. Look at the kitchens in the magazines: white floors and white cabinets. White marble is very popular for countertops. There is a renewal of interest in white carpeting. Apparently, we now need to be “soothed” when we get home. The stress of daily living is getting us down. The solution, according to the decorating experts, is to surround ourselves with a house devoid of color. Whiteness equals inner peace.
It makes sense. But I wonder if those people advocating inner peace have ever walked across that white carpeting with a mug of coffee. Oops. And I know from personal experience (damn that kitchen designer at the Home Depot) that white linoleum reveals every speck, every crumb, and every splotch. I curse that woman every time I have to spit on a paper towel and mop up a muddy footprint.
I had a white sink, also. It stained. My white matelassé coverlet has brown cat hair all over it. I loved the look of all those white pillows that “Design on a Dime” recommended, but they looked shoddy after just a few weeks.
I think it might be a conspiracy. The manufacturers of white goods are paying the designers and the publishers of Architectural Digest to advocate all the white stuff. They know it will look awful fast. So then we hapless consumers will just have to purchase more stuff. And if I hear one more person (Martha, you know who you are) say that “All you have to do is pop it in the washer, and it comes out looking new and fresh,” I may have to scream.
Inner peace is hogwash. What we really need in this stressful world is for home decorating pundits to come to their senses and start recommending slipcovers and area rugs the color of dirt.