Our Bedrooms, Our Lingerie
I had never heard of Marian McEvoy until I started reading Domino, and to be quite frank, some of her tips remind me very VERY strong of this woman I used to know who taught charm school in the South (the undirrrty version, thanks). For example, there was one article in which Ms. McEvoy strongly encourages us to consider our bedrooms to be the equivalent of our lingerie…and then proceeded to give us tips on how to scintillate our beds with lavendar spritzes and petit sachets of potpourri.
Well. I don’t know about you, but my underoos drawer doesn’t resemble anything close to having heart-shaped bags of dried rose petals. And looking at my bedroom (and subsequently, my friends’ bedrooms) with these X-ray glasses had me shaking in my skivvies: my bedroom has strong preppy undertones which means what exactly? That I wear argyle grannies with tummy control? (I don’t. But I do like argyle). So, I called over one of my most girliest of girl friends to help my make over my bedroom. It wasn’t productive (if it were, I wouldn’t have yoinked those photos from Domino), mainly because I kept sputtering, “But…I HATE peach! And pink! And lace-edged sheets will make me itch like crazy!” to the point where my poor, poor friend gave up.
(For the record, we ended up looking at photos of bedroom makeovers and assigning them underwear profiles. This one was entitled, “No-Nonsense Tug-Free Ahh Jockey Knickers turns into Laura Ashley Big Time Bloomers.”)