And a few more thoughts from my “pet-peeves” list:
Overly lit rooms:
What’s up with the stadium lighting? Does no one know the simple joys of “dimming”? Modern magic really, these little boxes with wires, toggles, dials and such that allow you to control the level of light put out by the 40 mercury lamps that you have strapped to your ceiling.
Think candle light, people. Ever wonder why everyone in Merchant Ivory films look so damn great. It’s the candle light. Keep it low and your guests will glow!
No mirror in the Entry Hall:
Wind, rain or just a treacherous seatbelt can put an end to even the best hair days. “My kingdom for a mirror,” is my cry, so I can assess the damage. Is it too much to ask for a simply framed, mercury coated, plate glass panel artfully hung in a friendly way that says “before you walk into the crowd just around the corner you may want to fix that birds-nest of a ‘do’ teetering on your forehead!”
Or the even more intimate suggestion that hints to you: “While we love you dearly we fear the children will be spooked by the false eyelashes masquerading as earrings.” A casual glance in the mirror (that tool of vanity we thank the warlords of Dynastic China for) can either send you scampering directly into the social fray without a worry in the world or cause your fingers to speed-dial a hair and makeup rescue team from the nearest beauty emporium.
Worse yet, I hate having every surface in the room mirrored:
I said a glance. That’s all I need, just a glance. I don’t need endless repetitions of my rumples, wrinkles and wind swept atrocities spun round me like the lame clad cast of A Chorus Line.
