How (not) to Create Interior Designer Rooms

I hate not having a place to set a drink or book. Think of it this way, Dear Blazer-of-Stylish-Trails, it’s like landing a dinner reservation at that fabulous new restaurant everyone in town is clamoring to get in to (you snagged the last reservation just before Christ’s return).

You get all dressed up (and I mean really dressed up) and drive across town only to discover they don’t have parking. I don’t mean they just don’t have valet. I mean no valet, no little lot-in-the-back, no homeless person offering to watch your car for 10 bucks on the streets in this “up and coming neighborhood.” I mean nothing.

Zip. Zero. Zilch. Why it just takes all the Choo out of your Jimmy’s! It’s just not right. It’s inconvenient. In thoughtless and, well, you’ll show them. You’ll just never come back…

Now, Dear Students of the Sublime, as Socrates surely must have pined to the young eager minds gathered around his classically draped visage (think Madame Gres), “So do ya follow me, kids?”

The point of this wee digression is to never be a thoughtless host and never inconvenience a guest (unless it’s part of an over-arching, potently evil, socially punishing plan to right some long-standing wrong that was done against a weaker creature in your swirling circle of acquaintances and acquisitions… and if this is the case then you must come sit by me).

What type of inconvenience exactly? By allowing guests to navigate through the mine-field of chatter, platters and libations (also known as your Living Room) only to alight on your smartly upholstered (in the French manner, no doubt) 18th century canapé.

That’s when and where your guest realizes the only surface available to balance the Flora Danica plate, so generously offered by your catering staff, and your Baccarat highball glass filled to the brim with Jack’n Coke (courtesy of their own demons and just a touch of enablement by your hot-n-bothering bartender) is their own lap.

Yes, the same lap that is already burdened with their Judith Leiber clutch teetering on the strained skirt of their optimistically sized Dior cocktail suit. The look of horror on their face would bring tears to the eyes of the most heartless FEMA Field Director.

It’s a simple test. Wander randomly through you home. Spontaneously sit and reach. If all you find beneath your sweaty palm is the air that we breathe then get thee to a shop, gallery, flea market or tag-sale and fill the void with a smart, stylish table of sorts.