Those of you, who have been to my home, will remember that I have excellent tastes. I am a particularly good decorator, even if I tend to think minimalism is something that happens to other people. I have many lovely and interesting things scattered about my home, because I have a spectacular sense of design, color and arrangement. Everyone compliments Syd on the way she’s decorated the house, and then get sort of sheepish when she tells them that most the selection and placement was done by me.
NOW!
Here’s the thing. I don’t just have lovely things. I have a spectacular sense of style, it’s true, but I also have a perverse need to offend that style on occasion.
I also have some wonderfully hideous things. Things that no woman I’ve ever been with has been able to say that she really approves of. We’re going to investigate some of those items, beginning with these fucking things…
These are the hands.
