The Vol-in-Law and I shopped for new tablecloths at the John Lewis Department store on Oxford Street today. Being mucky pups, we got the easy wipe down kind. It's a necessity, because I embarked on refinishing our dining table. I got it stripped, but never varnished the top again, so it has to have protection. (Before you ask, that was a project I started about eight years ago - and yes I have older unfinished projects)
I must have caught the ViL in an exceptionally good mood, as normally he prefers not to browse amongst the dry goods. After guiding him to the correct table cloth choice from the three options I presented him with, he was still in such good cheer that I suggested we look for a new sofa bed. He agreed. The ViL is an intense shopper, he actually considers the options, feels the fabric, tests the springiness of the cushions, consequently he burns out early in shopping. Unfortunately, we didn't find anything to suit. There was one sofa I quite liked, but it came in pseudo suede only.
While at John Lewis, we ran into a friend of mine. A male friend, who was shopping for upholstery fabric on his own. He has recently moved in with his girlfriend into a new (to them) house. He's a great guy to drink beer with, but I'm really not sure that I would trust any man to go out upholstery shopping on his own. Certainly not for fabric that I have to live with.
My shock at seeing my friend out shopping on his own made me realise that I am a tyrant of the domestic sphere. It's definitely my (design) way or the highway. But the ViL doesn't mind, because he knows I have exceptionally good taste.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
What you need is a drunken bash and a carefully orchestrated "accidental" fall against said coffee table monstrosity.
For me, I don't have to worry about such things. I have my mother-in-law making all these choices for me.
Actually, she doesn't do everything, we did pick the paint and the flooring and tiles ourselves for our house. But she occasionally picks out home decor items for us and she is pretty damn good at picking out my taste in things. And I have to wonder why my own mother never picked up on it quite so well.
Post a Comment