My mum is always buying those glossy home decor magazines, and I can never help flipping through them, despite my reservations. I’ve got to say, the way the homes are styled in them, you’d think they were inhabited by some kind of rarely seen, ground-dwelling bird – a kiwi, perhaps.
For starters, they often feature piles of sticks, twigs and driftwood that don’t serve any clear purpose. These are sometimes arranged alongside an assortment of unidentifiable objects that look like bits an old barbeque – you know, stuff you find on the beach and spend ages trying to figure out what kind of exotic shell it is before you realise it’s a plastic knob.
These arrangements are typically, like… on the floor, or positioned on an improbable shelf in a bathroom. Designers, Melbourne magazine editors would have you believe, are simply nuts for leaving little piles of stuff scattered throughout their otherwise perfectly uncluttered abodes. Even the occasional segments on laundry renovations are rife with inexplicable collections of organic matter – a decorative sea sponge next to the soap dish, and a clay bowl of dried leaves beside the door.
Ornithological comparisons aside, you have to wonder how these piles go with that dog running through the back of the shot, although somehow you can just tell that it’s flawlessly trained and would never dream of knocking over that stack of pine cones. Likewise, it’s unthinkable that the dog could pose a problem for that spotless cream rug; nor could the perfect-looking toddler pictured with the supposed homeowners.
Evidently, there’s something about these images that fascinates me, as I can’t seem to stop coming back for more bizarre editorials. I mean, it’s probably a passing trend, but it does seem to have been around for a while now. Heck, maybe I should give it a whirl – not that I have a whole lot of empty surface area for bundling wood on, but at least it won’t cost me anything.