Doorknob pillows are designed to hang at just the right height that when you slam your kid brother's head into the door, it doesn't leave a mark. (Just a theory; I didn't have a kid brother.)

"Doesn't leave a mark on the door, or on the head?" "Yes."

I'm starting to think of human manufacturing infrastructure as a massive biological system. It's got its own logic and imperatives now, beyond our control. And the stuff it churns out is mutating.

Doorknob pillows are the kind of thing that you find in American B&Bs, which is one reason I try to avoid staying at American B&Bs. Too much lace and lavender-scented pillows and other frou-frou crap. Give me a nice, impersonal business hotel any day, with in-room movies, high-speed Internet access, room service, and a coffee cart in the lobby.

The foosball business card holder looks cool. In my college, foosball was sort of what we had instead of varsity sports. I loved it, although I never got any good at it. Eight-year-old girls could beat me at foosball.

Still, I see your point. Miniature foosball table that fits on your desktop: cool. Little drawer-like business card holder, well, I can sort of see the value to that, although there are other business card holder designs that seem more elegant and practical.

http://www.architectstouch.com/buscarhol1.html

But why did someone think it would be a good idea to combine the miniature foosball table and the business card holder? It doesn't make any sense. There's no THEMATIC UNITY.

As for the Santa waving an American flag, at least he looks cheerful, and he's not scowling and waving an automatic weapon.

Ho ho ho.

I like the Nature's Platform myself

http://www.naturesplatform.com/

Although that may well be because the page has the word "rectum" on it.

I always thought the purpose of a doorknob pillow was to keep the doorknob from smashing into the wall behind it . . . ?

"ladies' tool set (which is a bog-standard tool kit, only the carrying case and all the tool handles are pink)"

I would like to point out that one needn't PAY for this wonderful insanity. Two Christmases ago, my daughter's husband bought her a tool set and spray painted it pink. She was delighted because it was now instantly clear when a piece of her tool kit was stolen. As as she is the one who does most of the house repairs. . .

Jane

AAAAWWWW guys...I thought the fashionable flamingo was cool...

Can you imagine the stuff that *didn't* make the cut for this catalog? Somewhere out there is a boatload of products that this purveyor of Dachshund Friends turned down. And if that doesn't keep you up at night...

A digression on your digression: what does it mean when you're a card-carrying geek, right down to a pile of old SCA garb in the back room, but you're hooked on Trading Places? I'm sitting in the chaos of a small 2 bedroom apartment which is barely holding our collection of books in 13 tall Ikea bookcases of various syles and vintages. Does the fact that I never miss a TS recap at televisionwithoutpity.com mean that I secretly desire to pull down all my bookcases and replace them with 6000 polyester flowers stapled to the wall?

"Trading Spaces" is fun to watch because of the thinly disguised horror on the faces of the residents when they see what their best friend/cousin/mother did to their home. The frat house redone in lime green with the swing-seats suspended from the ceiling sticks out in my mind.

Re: the ladies' tool set, a couple of years ago I asked for a basic tool set as a housewarming gift. My dad spotted one of those dainty pink tool sets in an outlet store and muttered under his breath, "not MY ladies." Then he bought me a cordless drill.

Oh god, the flowers.

I admit it -- I watch _Trading Spaces_ too (along with the BBC original, _Changing Rooms_, and the BBC spin-off, _Ground Force_). It's all about the people, and wondering why the homeowners put up with this stuff, and wondering who the hell hires these decorators in real life (except for one woman, who's actually quite decent), and secretly thinking that the awful couple who've been arguing the entire time and refusing to work really _deserve_ the room their "friends" have created for them.

I think I might be a changeling, because while I definitely can't be called a mundane, I drool over catalogues from _Pottery Barn_, and always look to see what the new _Martha Stewart Wedding_ cover is.

As for doorknob pillows: Easy decoration for people who care, but suck at it? That's the closest I can figure.

I hear ya, Kat. Had a brief mental flash of what those flowers would look like six months from now and couldn't stop sniggering. If Hildi ever comes near my house, I shall baracade the doors with the four-plus metric tons of accumulated paperbacks. And as a diversion from your digression, Vern's designs are generally quite lovely, if you dig clean lines.

Martha Stewart and Pottery Barn catalogs are porn for homeowners--pure fantasy that touches on an inner lust. MSLiving, which I unabashedly subscribe to, is my monthly indulgence into a brand of fiction more fantastic than an raft of SF/F writers could produce.

I don't, however, own any doorknob pillows nor do I understand their existence.

This stuff all seems like the physical equivalent of funny Flash apps. Someday, when Napster fabbers rule the Earth, people will come up with ideas like this and post them to the InterWeb, so that we can have Easter Bunny Chair Cozies for 24h -- long enough to be amused by them -- for free, before putting them in the hopper to be turned into new crap.

Well, except for the floor protectors I didn't find any of it too weird, but I spent 4 years working as a hospital volunteer. The office I did most of my work in was right off the the gift shop. So I'vve already been exposed and innoculated. I'm not sure dachsund themed kitsch is all that different from the numerous Christmas ornaments I own in the shape of rockets or cats. Neither one of them has anything to do with Christmas, but I can't resist either of them. (And my Christmas colors are purple, green and silver instead of red, green and gold. So there.)

Emma and Kat, okay, I'll bravely follow where you have lead and admit that I buy and read Martha Stewarts books and magazines. But my favorite HGTV show is the Designer Challenge. The one where 3 different designers compete head to head to see who gets to do the job.

And I thought the rubber ducky shower curtain was pretty cool myself.

MKK

The profusion of "Changing Rooms"-style shows is pretty amazing. VH1 has one now ("Rock the House", wherein a fan of a given band gets one room redone by that band), as does MTV. They've even branched out from house design into clothing; last week I came across "What Not to Wear" on BBC America.

Count me in with the "tons of books and interior design are not mutually exclusive" crowd, too. There's nothing that says you can't have a well-designed library in your house (I know, I used to live in a house that had one).

Fessing up time--our entire family (from 7 year old to grandparents) are Changing Rooms and Ground Force fans. Epecially of the Lawrence Llwelyn-Bowen shows and any time Charlie leans over. However, we wouldn't be caught dead watching Trading Spaces. Moss on the walls etc. Feh! (Though someone did worm boxes in an early CR which made us all shout out "Euuuuuew!" together.)

By the way, if any of you ever decide to do up my rooms--no Barbie pinks, no color bands, no paint on my antique furniture, and no dead trees masquerading as sculptures.

Okay, I'm trying not to take "mundanes are just weird" the wrong way, per your suggestion, but I just can't. Why is wanting bath towels to match somehow "weirder" than obsessing over minutiae in sf books or arguing about whether entertainment is speculative fiction or science fiction or fantasy or whatever? Gad, we're all just people. Some of us like sf, some of us like matching bath towels, some of us like both. It's kinda disappointing to see, 20+ years after I've "gafiated" from sf fandom, that us-vs.-them terms like "mundanes" are still being used.

And another comment on "ladies tools": the first holiday present I bought the woman who later married me was a drill (not cordless, but all the other home features); our first shopping trip was to pick out her Swiss Army knife. (Same size as mine, but the officers' model instead of the enlisted men's.) She told her parents about this and they were still willing to receive me....

Why science fiction people should be the only group on the planet to foreswear us-vs-them language, I have no idea. As human behaviors go, spluttering a bit about "mundanes" in the context of marveling over silly interior decoration seems, well, not exactly a major moral offense. I'm sorry if it disappoints you.

Personally, I find that a little "us fans versus those mundanes" talk goes a long way, but I also wonder why Teresa, who indulges in this kind of talk very rarely, is getting grief about it.

It's fine to preach universal tolerance and understanding, but you know, sometimes a sense of being a little bit special can heal some wounds. Certainly I remember being a lonely teenager and then discovering SF fandom and having the slow realization that maybe I wasn't going to have to be the Lone Ranger all my life after all. Back in those heady early days, I probably used the phrase "mundanes" quite a bit, because it really did help express my youthful bafflement about people who cared more about matching interior decor than about, for instance, books. I doubt very much that the "mundanes" in question took much damage from it.

But back to the main point: I'm never amused by the attack that goes "Surely as science fiction fans you should be broadminded enough to agree that--" Fill in the end of the sentence. It's right up there with "I'm shocked that, as an editor, you should" -- split an infinitive, use a casual turn of phrase, accidentally write a run-on sentence. Shrug. Sorry not to live up to your expectations. But not very sorry.

Emma, I don't think it's just you. I'll bet that if Ellie Lang ever gets a look at that flamingo, she'll be instantly overcome with desire. She already owns a stuffed bear that dresses up as an aubergine. Honest.

Kat, if you're a changeling, so am I. Why have we never had the sense to go to ABC Home Furnishings and compare notes? (God. Those flowers. What can she have been thinking?)

Jeez, Elayne. Let's untwist those nether bits and go back to recapping Trading Spaces. "Mundane" is hardly an offensive term, and anyway I wasn't applying it to you; which suspicion is, I suspect, the reason it got up your nose.

The thing that Patrick doesn't understand is not the urge to create handsome and workable living spaces. He's down with that. So am I. It's part of having a good life. Some people have a gift for doing it. You should see my Uncle Mike's house, or either of Jane Yolen's houses.

As a matter of self-knowledge, I'll admit that while I'm quite pleased with my dashing new living-room drapes, I will never care as much about matching household linens as some of my relatives do. It takes all kinds.

The thing Patrick doesn't understand is what gets called "interior decoration" in the context of Trading Spaces, where you have no idea what to do with your own room, so you have someone else come in and tell you what to do with it.

I don't properly understand the TS version of interior decoration either, though I fail to comprehend it from a different angle. I mean, these people are getting billed as professional designers, and they act like they know what they're doing; and then the next thing you know they're gluing clumps of dried moss all over someone's bedroom wall.

If you understand that, please tell me what Hildi thought she was doing with all those fake flowers. Six months from now, that wall is going to look like "Miss Havisham Goes Hawaiian."

I unapologetically maintain that it's bizarre to buy little stuffed cow-dolls to stick on the ends of one's chair legs. If you took that personally, please keep talking, because I'm fascinated.

"Can you imagine the stuff that *didn't* make the cut for this catalog?" That's sort of like wondering about the scripts that Pauly Shore turned down.

Meanwhile, is everyone aware that Trading Spaces fanfic exists, including slash varieties?

"Can you imagine the stuff that *didn't* make the cut for this catalog?"

Oh right. I meant to say. That reminds me of the time Jordin and I were walking through a flea market and I was marveling at the amazing variety of incredibly ugly and tacky table lamps in the world. "What's worse," says he, "is that someone, somewhere, sat down at a drawing board and designed each and every one of them." Aiieeee.

Elayne: My response, somewhat more gentle than Patrick's, is that no, there's nothing wrong with caring that your towels match. But there's nothing wrong with caring that they don't. In an ideal world neither side would feel compelled to criticize or make fun of the other, but well, humans being what they are, we all seem to like to use those 'in-group' signals for our particular group. Fans are, of course, far from the only people who do it. Teenagers, doctors, cat fanciers, football fans; they all have their own jargon and look somewhat pityingly at people who aren't members. We all do it so why would sf fans be any different?

MKK

I actually get lots of catalogs, as I do a lot of catalog shopping (hate malls, hate humans in malls, hate elevator music in malls). So I see a lot of horrors. And a lot of yummies, too.

Teresa, the fake flowers are for those who don't want the trouble of trying to recreate the "designer" look. Big, big bouquets of the stuff are very popular in Latin households, especially the ones that look slightly faded, to go with the fake Louis Quatorze. I have a relative, one of the sweetest women in the whole known universe, who is addicted to those crazy swags you can use over doorways and windows. There's one over the toilet! Unfortunately, it has eucalyptus in it, which invariably makes me sneeze when I am...otherwise occupied. I'm sure I make a memorable picture.

I also live in South Florida and the fashionable flamingo and the fake flowers are the LEAST of offenses down here.

This catalog reminds me of the thing I saw
in a Philadelphia dollar store, which stays
fresh in my memory a decade later.

A shelf with at least half a dozen jack
in the boxes.

Gone with the Wind Rhett Butler jack in the boxes.

Demented marketing errors like these are
capitalism's greatest flaw. If a product
were manufactured only when a customer
ordered one, all this madness could be
avoided.

Mary Kay / Jordin recalled/said:

"What's worse," says he, "is that someone, somewhere, sat down at a drawing board and designed each and every one of them."

Actually, what's even *worse* is that
those are probably the best designs,
approved by executive committees.

I wonder if anyone had to write ad copy
extolling the virtues of the more
revolting lamps that are in existence.

Teresa: The key to understanding those insane designers is that they're in it for the showbiz. If they did the sensible thing, and gave every room off-white walls with hardwood floors (or, where that wasn't possible, subdued beige carpeting), the show'd be boring and nobody'd watch. So, moss on the walls and racing stripes on chairs.

Alternate theory: They're easily bored, and overrate novelty in decorating in the same way that movie critics overrate novelty in film.

Alternate alternate theory: They really are just insane.

Funny you should mention this particular item, Teresa, because someone we both know (I ain't tellin' who) has that seashell toilet seat. And having had occasion to use it on a number of occasions, I must say I'm totally down with it. This person is one of several people I know who has chosen a marine/underwater/bottom-of-the-sea/whatever motif for their bathroom, and it works just fine.
I also happened to see "Trading Spaces" for the first time a couple days ago. with its $1000 materials limit and 24-hour time limit, it's kind of the yuppie version of hardware wars. One of the couples in the episode I saw did in fact have a lot of books (the guy was a rare-book collector of some sort) and my thought as the other team removed all his books from the shelves (in order to paint the shelves with festive accents) was: I hope they're keeping those in order...Frankly, I would be quite happy if someone came into my pad and painted and put down new flooring, replaced my swinging doors with sliding ones, etc. It's jsut i guess I have other priorities...

Doorknob pillows had passed me by completely. I don't think they exist in the UK yet. Except that Dr Plokta gave Marianne one for Christmas. "Patty tells me they're very big at the moment", he explained, as Marianne looked dubiously at the front of the pillow, which had a stuffed frog's face and said "come in", and the back of the pillow, which had a stuffed frog's bum and said "stay out". "When you press its tummy, it makes a noise like a wombat," he said helpfully.

It's hung outside her room now. "Stay out," it says, predictably. Given that the primary person she wants to keep out can't read (but can press the frog, which in fact goes 'ribbit, ribbit'), I wonder what use she thinks it is?

Emma, the fake flowers in question were recently featured on Trading Spaces, when one of the designers covered a whole wall with them. When they're not being used by clinically insane designers, the current crop of fake flowers are all right by me. I've seen specimens I had to touch before I could tell whether they were fake or real -- and I'm a gardener.

Exactly, Jon Hendry: Rhett Butler jack-in-the-boxes. Exactly, Mitch: there's no thematic unity. Exactly, Avram: Those things are mutating. When they become self-modifying, we're lost.

More than one skiffy writer has imagined that takeoff point, but I don't think any of them realized that the 'bots would be cute, sentimental, and have seasonal or holiday themes.

Jon, Jim, Mary Kay: It's more perverse than you think. The stuff in that catalogue is not the best of its sort. For instance, they sell Soul Mates pins for dog and cat fanciers, designed by Rachel Badeau: Not the worst items in the catalog, but nothing to write home about. Thing is, I'm familiar with Rachel Badeau's work, and it's much better than that: subtler, more original, and far more appealing. Also, she has the necessary setup to reproduce it in quantity, so there's no explanation for going with the "Soul Mates" designs. Here are some examples of her good stuff: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6].

It's a mystery.

Mike, I think you're right. On one of the sites linked from the words "Trading Spaces" in my post, you can see before-and-after pix from every episode, and the befores are improbably colorless and featureless rooms. Doing just about anything to them would look at least momentarily like an improvement. And yes: off-white walls and hardwood floors. With that, you can do anything.

Robert, I don't see why you're being mysterious about the shells-and-lucite potty. It was Dave Berry who thought that one was weird. I was blinking at the white oak one that's hand-carved and painted with a moose head. Must be a Minnesota thing.

I don't think Trading Spaces or Surprised by Design is likely to invade your apartment (though I'd love to see them take on such a challenge; it has some interesting problems and possibilities), but I could post my standard bookshelf design as a contribution to the general good.

I came close to posting it a while back, re-did the schematics and rewrote the explanatory text ... and then didn't quite finish it. I'll dig it out. (That's been happening to my writing a lot lately. I'll be 85% finished, then suddenly it'll all look just too dumb to bear, so I save it and throw it on the growing stack.)

Alison, I believe I've seen UK mentions of door pillows. A keep out/come in sign that croaks has its uses.

I hate having to admit that I tripped myself up trying to be clever, but did anyone click through to the links from the "d" in Trading or the "ac" in Spaces? The latter, especially; it's fun.

Ms Yolen: The lovely Lawrence (those leather pants! that hair!) and the curvy Charlie (that tank top! that hair) are big hits in at least one household one this side of the Atlantic. Although I do have to admit that Lawrence's hot pink with zebra stripes sitting room was about as off-putting as the TS moss wall.

And has anyone else noticed that seasons two and three of TS always feature at least one shot of a pillow with a Roman numeral--either a two or three, depending on the season, natch--on it? Or am I the only one who has started actually trying to find it, *Where's Waldo*-style, in each episode?

Teresa: Ulrika just built a set of your bookshelf design in her and Hal's new apartment here in Seattle. She's been talking about it on RASFF and says she found an arithmetic error in the plans. I think she said it was shelf length related. I can go find the post on Ghugle if you like.

MKK

I clicked through the various links (having my browser set to Startling Colors for Viewed/Not Viewed Links helps).

I didn't take the annoying internet quiz, though.

I can explain door pillows.

Adrienne: Lawrence and Charlie -- yes. But if the pink room you're referring to is the one I think it is, then by god, he certainly made a room that matched the _rest_ of that household...

TS-wise -- I once took the opportunity to look up Doug Wilson and see whether _anyone_ outside of the show has ever hired him. (And here, I'm extremely disappointed to find out that he's removed Liza Minelli from his website's short bio. Damn. The link would've been fun. Still -- Barbara Walters, anyone?)

Mary Kary, I surely do want to know about that error. I've been delayed on finishing the bookshelf post because I kind of lost my temper a little bit in a comment thread in Andrea Harris's Spleenville.

James, beloved, if you can explain door pillows, by all means please do so.

Meanwhile, is everyone aware that Trading Spaces fanfic exists, including slash varieties?

I hit that point when I ran across the Tony Blair/Gordon Brown slashfic.

Teresa: relevant RASFF post emailed.

MKK

Door pillows.

First, we must admit that the urge for art and accumulation of elaboration are universal human urges.

Next, we must admit that there exist apartments and houses that are rented with terrible leases that forbid doing anything with the walls, ceilings, or floors, and are stuck with adding color and elaboration by hanging things on existing structures of the room, for picture hooks are forbidden, picture rails are no longer standard features of walls, and the only high attachment points are doorknobs.

Under those circumstances (when one must put things on the bottoms of ones'chairlegs to avoid scratching the landlord's floors) that anything at all that you can add to the plain white box, like Cat Floor Protectors (note that the cows have sold out) are all for the good.

As to the beaded waterbottle covers ... well, it's like this. You know the recycling we've been enjoined to do for Lo! these many years? This has produced huge mountains of "recycled" plastic which is -- face it -- pretty much useless. What can you do with that stuff? Make beaded waterbottle covers is about the only use that comes instantly to mind. The idea is that if you kick the plastic around long enough, it might get lost.

The Santa Claws Pet Costume, on the other hand, is Just Plain Wrong.

The foosball/business card holder actually makes sense to me: There are people who would enjoy the decoration provided by a miniature foosball set on their desk, but don't want to consume valuable desktop space with something purely decorative, so they put something functional in it as well.

What baffles me is the "cow-patterned motorized chocolate milk mixer", especially the line "No more messy spoons" . ! ! and ! Yes, far better to have an entire battery-powered single-purpose gizmo to wash than a spoon!

Mike Kozlowski - >>The key to understanding those insane designers is that they're in it for the showbiz. If they did the sensible thing, and gave every room off-white walls with hardwood floors (or, where that wasn't possible, subdued beige carpeting), the show'd be boring and nobody'd watch. So, moss on the walls and racing stripes on chairs.

Exactly so. Salon carried an interesting article on Trading Places a while back. In particular, the writer said she was flabbergasted that Doug is actually, in real life, a really nice guy. He greeted his fans solicitously at Home Depot, was gracious to everyone, and was nothing like the bitch he appears to be onscree. Doug explained that he views Trading Spaces as being in the same genre as professional wrestling -- and his job is to be the villain.

Of course your other two theories are good too.

Kevin Maroney - As to the cow-patterned motorized chocolate milk mixer, yes, you have no more messy SPOONS, but now you have a messy cow-patterened motoroized chocolate milk mixer to deal with. Plus, I imagine such a device would be (a) primarily used by children and (b) not particularly precisely calibrated, so you'll end up with milk, and chocolate, and chocolate milk on your counters and nearby walls. Just stirring with a spoon seems to be easier.

Patrick - >>But back to the main point: I'm never amused by the attack that goes "Surely as science fiction fans you should be broadminded enough to agree that--" Fill in the end of the sentence. It's right up there with "I'm shocked that, as an editor, you should" -- split an infinitive, use a casual turn of phrase, accidentally write a run-on sentence. Shrug. Sorry not to live up to your expectations. But not very sorry.

I am occasionally appalled by the stuff that comes out of my fingertips, especially when blogging or engaging in occasional online chit-chat like this, and I expect someone out there is thinking, "I'm shocked that you, as a perfeshunal writer, should-- " But I am a writer who has to learn to write fast in order to make a living, and sometimes that results in weird stuff. Also, I'm fond of using colloquialisms -- like "perfeshunal" -- even though I know they're wrong. And I never could figure out when to use "which" and when to use "that," although I have got who/whom pretty well nailed (answer: never use "whom." That's easy enough.)

I will say one thing about a catalog like this: if you're looking for a gift for someone you don't like (but have to get them something anyway), this is a good place to find it.

I have read that the reason why those interior decorating show designers do such freaky stuff is because they're experimenting. The poor folks whose house they're decorating aren't paying the bill, the show is. It doesn't matter if the people hate it. They can't fire the designer, and there's no point in telling their friends that they're idiots; they can see that for themselves when the episode comes on. All they get is a redecorated room, one which they may or may not like. The advantage to the designer is, if they can see their idea in action, then they can (possibly) produce a more effective version that won't offend a paying client. In short: they're field-testing DIY R&D.

It's also worth noting that some people just have really bad taste.

Teresa wrote, "I unapologetically maintain that it's bizarre to buy little stuffed cow-dolls to stick on the ends of one's chair legs."

I looked at those and thought they would be a perfect gift for my supervisor at work.

Out here in California, floor worship has gotten out of hand. I can understand that it's Asian custom to remove your shoes before entering the house, but this custom has been seized on with a passion by too many other people.

My supervisor (blonde and blue-eyed) makes her kids take their shoes off so they don't scuff her hardwood floors. I never know if it's safe to go to a party nowadays. Too many places I've been invited to, they don't tell you beforehand that they expect you to take your shoes off so their light-colored carpets stay pretty.

I have bad feet. I wear orthotics in my shoes, and I wear shoes all day until I go to bed. I refuse to visit these people whose floor vanity is more important to them than their guests' comfort. (Going without shoes for a period of time will make my feet hurt, much like some women can't go bra-less comfortably.)

So hey, keep those little cow-dolls coming! Do you think they make them to slip on over shoes, too?

Bernie, if you have small feet and wear close-fitting shoes, I believe I can oblige you.

What do you fancy? How about fake golf shoes?

Go here if you'd rather stick your feet into leprechauns or sheep.

Here's where to go if you fancy plush sports footwear (soccer, football, basketball, baseball, golf, bowling, candystriper, camo, cross-training, and plain old running shoes); also cow, bunny, horse, frog, turtle, hedgehog, duck, bear, bull, elephant, dog, pig, cat, gorilla, bee, ladybug, fire engine, and two different psychedelic Phish models.

No? So how about mad cows, bees, bear feet, chicken feet, dinosaur feet, and rocodiles, cows, dolphins, pigs, tabby cats, or shar-pei dogs?

Or perhaps a speedboat, Porsche, deer, kitten, trout, bass, frog, or lobster?

Never let it be said that this isn't a full-service comments thread.

Given the large number of piles of books cluttering up the floors here at Gross Manor, Avedon decided we needed shelves over the stairs like those you may recall at our old flat from your 1985 visit. I have been dutifully erecting these, and couldn't help but notice the hardware store I use has on display not one but two different types of lucite toilet seats containing seashells. They also have one in which are flat representations of the planets, and another filled with silver glitter, presumably for those who want to make taking a dump a more showbizzy experience.

Elayne Rigg's primly disapproving drive-by notwithstanding, it seems to me that Patrick is
quite right in pointing out that we *do* have a different view of this interior decorating stuff than most non-fans. I'm always puzzled by those all-white, minimalist room designs, myself. I mean, do these people have a whole separate apartment where they store their books, or what?

Incidentally, someone you know has actually had the 'Ground Force' treatment. John Clute - for it is he - had them in to do something with the roof area at the rear of his flat. I got to see this when we went over for his 60th birthday party, and I suppose it was about the best they could've done with what they had to work with.

Given the large number of piles of books cluttering up the floors here at Gross Manor, Avedon decided we needed shelves over the stairs like those you may recall at our old flat from your 1985 visit. I have been dutifully erecting these, and couldn't help but notice the hardware store I use has on display not one but two different types of lucite toilet seats containing seashells. They also have one in which are flat representations of the planets, and another filled with silver glitter, presumably for those who want to make taking a dump a more showbizzy experience.

Elayne Rigg's primly disapproving drive-by notwithstanding, it seems to me that Patrick is
quite right in pointing out that we *do* have a different view of this interior decorating stuff than most non-fans. I'm always puzzled by those all-white, minimalist room designs, myself. I mean, do these people have a whole separate apartment where they store their books, or what?

Incidentally, someone you know has actually had the 'Ground Force' treatment. John Clute - for it is he - had them in to do something with the roof area at the rear of his flat. I got to see this when we went over for his 60th birthday party, and I suppose it was about the best they could've done with what they had to work with.

I mean, do these people have a whole separate apartment where they store their books, or what?

I am given to understand that George R. R. Martin and
his wife purchased the house next to theirs in order
to store their stuff (54mm miniatures were mentioned,
but I'm thinking books were involved as well). No idea if their original house is all minimalist.

Rob: some of the people most fond of seriously minimalist interior design have got huge numbers of books. Huge numbers of *huge* books, given the interest in design. It is a fiction that minimalism is about not having stuff, and it's a fiction perpetrated by these TV programmes. Not having any stuff is a cheap, and rather impractical, way to achieve the minimalist look. The expensive way is to have fabulous, perfect storage in large quantity, and to not have any kipple.

Wow. Most of this stuff is just hilariously bad. I particularly like the "105-piece" ladies tool set, however; in which 85 of the "pieces" are screws. In other words, it's a 20-piece tool set with 85 screws.

The plush trout doormat, and other products derived by "randomly recombining nouns and adjectives", put me in mind of "Big Idea", a Cheap-Ass Game (tm). It's a nifty simulation of the vicissitudes of venture capitalism, where the design phase is precisely that (random recombination). Thus Lise, Anna Vargo, Dave Howell, Sharon Sbarsky and I in the lobby at 2am one Orycon, touting to one other the virtues of Perforated Soft Drinks & the new, improved Portable Cat.

T--Just preserving privacy. Will tell you who it is next time I see you.

I have been threatening, for several months now, to go through my house with a stud-finder and a tape measure (actually, the house is balloon framed, so the stud-finder is just for insurance)and figure out just how many linear feet of shelf standard I'd need to apply a strip of it floor-to-ceiling on every stud of every wall. Then I'd just buy LOTS of bracket clips and shelving board, and merrily adjust it all until I FINALLY had a place for ALL of my books. And, as a bonus, I'd never have to worry about painting the walls again. All rooms would be done in multi-colored book-spine collage, against which you can put any furniture you like, and not worry about whether it matches.

I'd probably want a couple of those fancy-schmancy folding library-steps seats, though, so I could be sure of having something sturdy on which to reach the upper shelves that was more aesthetically appealing than a kitchen stepstool.

Can anybody think of a good reason why I shouldn't do this?

Rikibeth, you shouldn't do that because bracket-and-standards are light-duty shelves. They have a catastrophic failure mode when overloaded, and you're uncomfortably likely to reach the "overload" point if you use them for floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in a balloon-frame house.

If you're set on bracket-and-standards, use the extra-strength double-track standards and double brackets, and be zealous in making sure that every standard is fastened to a verified stud. Fastening standards to the walls between studs pretty much guarantees that Bad Things will happen.

Space your standards close together, and use pine or plywood, not fiberboard (ack ptui), for your shelves. Fiberboard weighs a ton; in shelving systems it's part of the problem, not part of the solution. Also, a several-foot unsupported span of fiberboard will inevitably sag and deform under the weight of books. The ready-made shelves sold with bracket-and-standard systems are usually fiberboard. Avoid them.

Bracket-and-standard failure mode: One overstressed standard starts to pull away from the wall. It's not all the way out, but it has pulled away. This reduces its load-bearing ability to a fraction of what it previously was.

The unsupported portion of its load is now added to the load on the standard next to it. If that second standard doesn't hold, if it too starts to pull away from the wall, the third standard is doomed. This is the failure point. All three standards pull out of the wall, and shelves and books come crashing down on whatever's in their way.

If you fastened the standards directly into the studs, the screws will most likely shear, and you'll lose a divot of drywall at that spot. If they were fastened between studs using molly bolts or other anchors of that ilk, the mollies will be pulled through the drywall, leaving holes the size of a small apple.

Let me put up my bookshelf diagram, and you see if you like it.

The other option, if you don't fancy woodworking, is to get hold of a metal shelving catalog. You know the freestanding metal utility shelves they sell at hardware stores? Those are just one variety of the vast clan of industrial metal shelving systems.

They're strong, they're relatively inexpensive, and since they offer a zillion options you can get exactly what you need. For books, that's shallow shelves spaced close together.

Also, you don't have to get stuck with Battleship Gray. You can get them enameled in pleasant colors, most notably white. Or you can paint them yourself before assembling, and find out about the amusing color names they give metal epoxy paints. Forget about fashionable shades like orchid and taupe and citron; these are paint colors named by guys:

Allis Chalmers Orange
Case Flambeau Red
Ford Blue
Ford Gray
International Harvester Red
International Harvester White
International Orange
John Deere Green
John Deere Yellow
Massey Ferguson Red
New Caterpillar Yellow
New Holland Blue
New Holland Red
Old Caterpillar Yellow
OSHA Red
School Bus Yellow

Oh, god Teresa, where did you find the list of color names? I'm grinning so big it hurts. Of course, John Deere Green is one of my favorite shades of green... I shall have to look into metal expoxy paints can be acquired by retail consumers. I have some things which could benefit from an application. My spiffy new light box, for example, (which does seem to be helping, though not enough) is boring white. Imagine it in John Deere or Catepillar yellow...

MKK

That easter-rabbit chair cover looks....ick. I can imagine the children's reactions:
'Look, Jimmy! It's the Easter Bunny!' *beatific smile*
'Mommy...you killed him!'

Thank you, Teresa. You've saved me from doing something that I now can see would have been Very Foolish.

Be assured, though, that I would never attempt to fasten ANYTHING heavier than a sheet of paper to my walls anywhere BUT over a stud. Drywall failure is bad enough, but I don't have drywall. I have plaster and lath. Plaster and lath failure is significantly uglier.

Hmm. Metro shelving, like the stuff at work (I'm a baker), painted in colors to match the existing wall colors in the house? I bet that the macho color names don't actually translate to things like dark teal or powder blue or off-white, though. Maybe wood shelves that I could stain and varnish to match the oak woodwork would be better. Not that I object to plain metal shelves, but the house is slightly over a hundred years old, and I can hear it protesting the idea of anything too industrial-looking.

Please do post the bookshelf plans. I'd be very grateful.

It felt odd to find out that green glass pickle Christmas tree ornaments were not perfectly ordinary things to you, Teresa, or to anyone else reading this entry. But of such variety life is made, yah? (In a vain attempt to forestall something-or-other, I will point out that the toilet paper radio and the Mayan end-of-the-world clock were in our house when we bought it. We do not have any truck with doorknob pillows, though.)

"Okay. By our standards, mundanes own hardly any books."

"Uh-huh?"

"Interior decoration is what they do with all that empty space."

All things make sense given time and full data. The former CEO of Tyco didn't strike me as much of a bookworm.

I would note a difference between the one Physical Deconstructionism Show I can manage to watch, GROUND FORCE, and the Dali Does Draperies ones: GF has a professional crew, aided in varying degrees by family members, turning yards that LILCO wouldn't dump PCBs in to something at least livable; the improvement is real, and the appreciation seems to be as well. (What these gardens, especially those with water features, look like two years hence is another matter.)

But remember that I never miss an episode of TRAUMA: LIFE IN THE ER, so my taste is more than suspect.

Refs color names, there is always the NYC Collection:

Parking Zone Red
Medallion Taxi Somewhat Yellow
NEW YORK POST Extremely Yellow
Ecru des Pigeons
NYCTA Token Dull Gold (o.s., special order only)
Jewelryized NYCTA Token Bright Gold
Traffic Officer Brown
Overpriced Martini Bar Undead Blue Neon
Streetcorner Puddle Green
Tiny Bit of Visible Sky Vaguely Blue
Yesterday's Aioli Amber

Interestingly enough, I mentioned my Ground Force addiction to a British friend of mine, and she screeched in horror. Apparently some 'real gardeners' in Britain are angry at the preponderance of hardscape in GF designs (well, the fetching Tommy has to do *something*, and after all it's not like many of these folks have indicated any great dedication to plant upkeep in their pasts).

The biggest concern, which I can see to some extent, is about groundwater: conversion from absorbent ground (however weedy or horrible) to runoff-producing paving, decking, etc., and how the popular show might influence hordes of hapless homeowners to duplicate the designs in their own gardens.

But I can only see it to a point, certainly not to the level of screeching, and if they were coming to Minnesota like they are to the East/Southeast US, I would be all over them to come hardscape the bejeezus out of my garden too. Slanty poles, water features, the works. :) For those of you lucky enough to live in the area, you can plead your case at:

http://www.bbcamerica.com/genre/home_living/ground_force/gfappform/ground_force_be_on_the_show.jsp

PS--Did you hear that Laurence is going to *host* the next series of Changing Rooms?

PPS--I think the stolid-tradesman-vs-naff-designer dynamic of these shows also has a lot to do with the appeal. The byplay is fun, and the scoffs and scowls of the Tommys and Handy Andys are usually the only acknowledgement of what the audience might be shouting when, say, Oliver puts all those eye bolts on that bed frame (ouch!). Maybe the designers (I exempt Alan Titchmarsh) are deliberately a bit over the top so as to give the audience a sense of superiority about their own aesthetics.

The NYC palette is hilarious! You could do one for Minnesota too, by season. For winter:

Sky white
Snow white
Horizon white
Lake white
Sunny-day-on-snow white with sparkles

For accent colors, you could have:

Leafless tree greyish-brown
Slush grey-with-specks
Ice house used-to-be-red

Never, ever try to bolt things to the walls with a stud finder when dealing with lathe and plaster; the strapping almost certainly behind the lathe will prove a great deciever.

(Sorry; Teresa already covered that in detail and the sugguestion about steel shelving is a very good one.)

It's not necessarily a good idea to finish wood for bookshelves; you have to pick the finish carefully and let it cure a long time if you wish to be certain it won't interact with the books. This is one of the advantages to the industrial powder epoxy metal finishes; they're designed to not interact with dilute sulphuric acid and ammonia cleansers and so on, which makes them pleasantly ignorant of the chemical presence of books.

It's possible to get metal strip shelving that's essentially a wide flat C beam, or composite ones that are light, strong glass-filled resin; it's also possible to get bolt-to-the-wall shelving supports that are designed as lumber shelving, and which will hold up any number of books, but I still wouldn't try it with a lathe and plaster wall.

If I was after something pleasant looking and I needed too much of it to even consider trying the 'build spiffy bookcases' route, I'd consider posts, brackets, and that steel shelving strip; a maple 2x8 finishes nicely, you put the brackets for the shelving strip inside, and you don't have to finish miles of actual *shelf*.

It's not as cheap as the book-eating version, but it might be less labour intensive.

I'm not quite visualizing that. Expand?

Well, I did leave rather a lot out.

There are two fundamental problems with bookshelves; one is making the case (which is potentially seen, has plants or cats or yet more books piled atop it, and which must be sturdy and reasonably square), and the other is making the shelves themselves, which must be strong enough to hold up all those books and which should be in some sense 'easy'; half dovetail housing joints are lovely things, but they're also a very large amount of work.

I prefer to solve these problems separately; 2x8 lumber, metal brackets, and a back plate of quarter inch ply will produce a very sturdy and (potentially) attractive case; the nice folks at the lumber yard will do all the cutting for you, so it's just a matter of screwing things together.

[the proper job involves rabetting the sides, top and bottom of the case so the back fits flush, doing some joinery instead of the metal brackets, and definately doing the thing in hardwood, but if one wants to be a hobby cabinetmaker that's different; this is supposed to be an idea for making lots of bookshelves.]

The hard part is getting the shelves into the case; none of the typical solutions for this are really all that much fun.

What I'm sugguesting as a possibility is to get lengths of either enameled steel shelving -- broad flat C beam -- or resin composite extrusions, and to put them in the case by sitting on brackets screwed into the sides. (one can get little right triangle metal brackets with a bit of looking that are like box beam but triangular, and with the screw holes drill through.)

This means that the shelves don't contribute anything to the strength of the case, but with a full back and thick sides they don't need to, and it makes construction lots easier because one doesn't have to drill lots of long straight holes by hand.

Graydon writes: "Well, I did leave rather a lot out."

Graydon, I think you may have written your epitaph. :) :)

Now we cross our fingers and see if this posts successfully, now that we have a different firewall in place.

--Ulrika

Ah, that worked.

Whee. Now I can gush about Tommy on GROUND FORCE! Okay, I'll restrain myself.

Teresa - yes you should post the shelf instructions as a public service. They work swell. Even in the nominal 1x6" spec they still hold standard hardcovers beautifully, and in quantity. The difference between the shelf length you gave (28 1/4") and the length I used (28 1/2") isn't that important -- it does leave one with the 30" top and bottom pieces overhanging at each end by 1/8", but since the top and bottom go on last rather than first, it doesn't induce a carpentry crisis. Considering how many of my shelves aren't fully square in the final bookcase, I doubt anyone would have noticed.

About TRADING SPACES - I dislike it rather intensely. I watched a few times because I became such a sad addict to CHANGING ROOMS while I had access to BBC America, but the difference in the personalities of the shows makes all the difference to me. CR trades off a certain amount of good-natured ribbing between the regulars, and it looked to me as if TS tried for that and had to settle for mean-spirited yet strained and artificial bitchiness instead. All of the charm was lost in translation. Ty in particular seems as if he's on the show exclusively to pout, bitch, and flex muscle. I suppose this may be heralded as a sort of triumph for feminism, but I'd rather not have to watch. And Hildi just seems to delight in inflicting design-as-cruel-joke on her victims to a degree I can't abide. I like the stuff Frank does sometimes, and he actually seems to have a lot of the generosity of heart that I like particularly about GROUND FORCE, but he isn't on enough of the time to make it work for me.

And I *never* thought I would have such decided views on interior decorating shows. This is the fruit of two months with my mother in law.

Graydon, you left out the parts about the sides of the bookcases.

Ulrika, how did two weeks with your mother-in-law do that?

I'm grateful for my mother-in-law, who has lovely taste, and would probably see door pillows as even more alien and incomprehensible than I do.

I did, yes; sorry about that. My brain has been wrestling with intangible octopuses for a few days now, and it's having side effects.

The other thing about using steel or extruded composite shelves is that this saves one from trying to find wooden shelving that is any good; your complaints about particle board are well taken, MDF has tensile strength but is heavy, deals badly with getting wet, and isn't likely any cheaper than the steel, finding decent wood gets harder every year.

The effect of two months with Hal's mom: it's nothing against her. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't go for doorknob pillows either. It's just that she has television, and cable, and we have neither. And she tends to leave it on for company (she's widowed since Hal was seven). And she's currently thinking about redecorating her condo. By "currently" I mean for the four years since she bought the place and decided that she positively hates the impractical polar-bear-colored wall-to-wall. Beth doesn't like to do things in a hurry. And she's not very confident about her taste, so she's researching the hell out of all her possible choices. Researching the hell out of it, even for her. (By comparison, I think it only took her a month to buy the Ott light she already knew she wanted, in order to research all the available sources for the best possible price.) So the upshot of all this was that I absorbed quite a bit of second-hand decorating television. Having lived largely without television for the last two decades, I had *no* *idea* there was so much of it out there to be had. I think I'd heard about CHANGING ROOMS on RASFF and I guess I was vaguely aware of THIS OLD HOUSE. Little did I know. With the right balance of cable stations, I could probably watch nothing but home decorating shows 24x7 with comparatively few repeats. Zowie.

So what with all that exposure, I developed some decided preferences in all the possible ways to do Home Decorating teevee. Which I just wouldn't have guessed I'd ever have, partly because I had no idea there was such a dizzying variety to have preferences among.

It was interesting and educational, but it's probably a good thing we don't have a television set, or I'd be giving serious thought to seeing if the local cable carries BBC America. This, I believe, is the condition the Brits refer to as "sad".

Ulrika: No that's not sad. Sad is my sister who has door know pillows all over the house.

MKK