Pondering Style ...
Last week, I wrote
Today, I'm writing this post in response to AT's question
I thought about G, who had not crossed my mind in a long time. Specifically, I thought about a day when we were shopping and
We stopped in another storefront on the way back the car, beautiful furniture and art and accessories and such, and while we couldn't stay long (he called his mechanic to see about picking up the car and found out that they were already closed but waiting for him), I really loved it. On the way to the car, he asked if I liked that store.
"Yep," I said.
"I didn't," he said.
"I know," I said. "It looks nothing like your house. But it looks everything like my house."
So, if it ever comes to that, perhaps we'll have a bit of a challenge buying housey things together... .
Of course, it never came to that. Which is fine, on every level. But yep, our tastes couldn't have been more opposed. Of course, I didn't not date him because of his taste in furniture but if we had lasted, it would have been interesting to discover how we'd have navigated decorating together.
And then there was the guy who gave me a tour of his apartment on our first date. I admit to having a bit of a reaction when he flipped on the light in his bedroom and I saw his shiny gold comforter. A little too Vegas for this Midwestern gal. And my instincts were right. We didn't last.
(G's taste, by contrast, was modern, period. Low-slung, clean-lined, and blue. He had a thing for blue. Rather primary blue.)
But getting back to AT's question, I started thinking about what it might mean if a man had truly crappy style – at which point, does it even count as style? – or if he had no interest in his environment at all.
Not that I expect every man to have much of a notion about design beyond "there" and "comfortable," but what of the person (who shall remain nameless) who saw no problem with inherited shag carpeting that was somehow affixed to a cinderblock wall? In his view, it provided insulation.
Oh, where to begin?
First of all, there is a right way to insulate an exterior wall and shag carpeting ain't it.
Second of all, if someone is willing to accept a shag-carpeted wall, does he possess any discernment?
Third of all, is he just being cheap?
(I'm pleased to report that the female in that situation was able to override the shag carpeting and the wall was insulated properly.)
Which reminds me of "When Harry Met Sally ... ," in which Jess relented for the sake of his relationship and ditched the wagon-wheel coffee table. That was sweet. And Harry had a really cool apartment. I would much rather live in his space than Sally's. Though he should have had a full-size basketball hoop.