In my former house, a large pile of junk mail accumulated every day. The task of picking this up from the floor and putting it in the bin became a daily chore. Now I’m happily installed in an apartment block, I have to say I do miss the local glossies that I specially sifted out from the junk. So I was rather pleased the other day, when I found a copy of a free magazine at the front desk. It was the usual sort – full of residential properties for sale or let. And one of them caught my attention:
Described as “an exceptionally designed freehold house,” I wasn’t quite sure if a word was missing. It didn’t appear to be the case – for, just as the copy stated, the house seemed to be ‘exceptionally designed’.
I think I’d better come clean from the start – I’d actually go out of my way to create a style that wasn’t ‘designed’ by anyone other than me. What my furniture looks like and where I choose to put it is purely my decision. And, aesthetically speaking, I’d much rather see a room randomly arranged according to someone’s individual taste, than stone obelisks on a glass topped table between colour co-ordinated parallel sofas.
But current trends in interior design take retail home furnishing one step further. I took these photographs at my local branch of Roche Bobois. I’m not sure whether it’s pronounced Bo as in Beau, or as in Robert – but, either way, it’s not exactly a name you’d instantly take seriously. Perhaps that’s why they’re promoting the Jean-Paul Gaultier designer lifestyle: the extraordinarily talented and original fashion designer has certainly got a great sense of humour. However, much as I love his style, I’m not sure I’d like to be totally immersed in it.
I suppose it’s largely an aspirational thing: if you’ve got the f*** off job in the City, the bling car and watch, and the apartment overlooking the bright lights of town, what could be better than a touch of the nightclub (complete with suitably ambient sounds) in your home? Answer = the whole kaboodle, including the Ben Hur armchair for a torturing £5,315, the limited edition (one of 250!) Paravent-wardrobe for a transparently ridiculous £11,748, the bed, the sofa, the cushions and the dog basket – all in monotonously marvellous matching shades.
Hotels are partly to blame for the bland uniformity of taste slowly infecting our interiors. ‘Luxury designer’ it may be called, but Edinburgh’s Missoni hotel could be anywhere in the world for all the regular visitor cares. Standards of service and cuisine may have improved over the past couple of decades, but where is the point of difference? Surely not everyone has the same designer lifestyle dream?
I think Roche Bobois should hire Frank Key to create a ‘look’.
Nonsense for visiting oil barons. If you squint, the fabric on the sofa looks like a crude drawing of a lady of the type boys would do on the toilet walls at school in blue biro
Great post Susan. It brings to mind an episode of the Sorpranos when Carmela goes on a spending spree at Roche Bobois and Tony remarks that they might as well have moved into the showroom for all the personality the house now had. It’s interesting to see how designers are now trying to give the homes of the cash rich but time poor an ‘off the peg’ character. The master has to be Ralph Lauren. His Manhattan showroom is extraordinary. Each room has its own look – traditional (repro antiques), New England (lots of duck egg blue and stripes) and urban cool (black velvet and chrome). Masters of the universe then buy the entire look, down to ornaments including picture frames with photographs of far-away places which they have never had the time or inclination to actually go to, but are there to give their guests the impression that they are well travelled and interesting. Unfortunately there is only one thing these interior looks say and that is ‘I have money’. And lots of it. I saw one crocodile footstool on sale for an eye-watering $21,000. Personally I take great pleasure in decorating my home. I enjoy discovering and lugging back interesting pieces from far off places that I have brought in auctions, flea markets and galleries. I love the fact that each piece is characterful, unique and has a story linking it to my own travels and experiences. This is not to say there is no place for the designer in the home. I love a bit of Ralph Lauren and Missoni, but only a little (and all bought on ebay). And as for Roche Bobois, I will confess that I have a very big soft spot for their Hans Hopfer sofa, but not in that ridiculous JP Gaultier fabric!
Am waiting to hear from you, Frank…
You’ve got a point there, Worm. And Toby, the Sopranos episode sounds amusing – haven’t seen that. I agree, designers like Ralph Lauren produce some great things, but ideally not all together in the same place at the same time. And nothing beats the truly individual piece, with some provenance to add a bit of character (so sadly lacking in contemporary interiors).
I guess you need to be very self-confident to trust your own instincts, especially if your social life is constructed so that entertaining people is the primary way you express your persona. So it’s safer to outsource your taste decisions?
Well spotted Susan, the hotel once described as the end result of hanging Laurence Llewelyn Bowen by the goolies from the underside of a DFS sofa while simultaneously garrotting him with a Roberto Capucci scarf and playing Taken by Trees singing Sweet Child of Mine.
Lovely to have you back, Malty – and with such a fabulicious flourish of prose. Laurence Lewellyn Bowen lives to tell the tale – I spotted him hanging out at Royal Ascot today – looking perfectly at home in a bog standard white plastic garden chair.