We recently had a newly redone room painted (a long, tedious processing in and of itself, being forced to look at color swatches and complementary trim colors endlessly). Each time this happens, I am simply reminded of Mr. Blandings builds his Dream House and how his wife goes to great pains to describe the precise room colors to a painter who misses the entire thing.
This is promptly followed by hiring an "interior designer" (people who get paid to tell you in fancier terms what you actually suggested in the first place). These people clearly get paid by the clutter.
Clutter comes in many dimensions: a few too many pieces of furniture "but they are perfect!" An excess lamp or two, three or four, or enough to then require you (moi) to install new outlets.
Then there are the decorative pillows (for convenience, priced by the hundred), decorative throws (what the hell are "decorative throws" and who knew they were needed?), vases never actually intended for plants, and throw rugs literally thrown thither and yon for the simple amusement of seeing husbands do face plants as they trip over them or slip on them.
I'm still not quite sure if they were the designer's idea or my loving wife's.
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