Annusya discovered the above abomination as advertised by Home Depot. Just as we anatomize eximious and execrable interiors alike weekly courtesy of dedicated scanners such as JPEGFantasy and Manila Automat, I couldn’t help but likewise scrutinize this stabile calamity’s every ill-conceived element:
- That tetragonal, post-’60s motif besmirching the floor and wall alike breathes a rancid nostalgia that gormless, suburban millennials agonize to imagine; to their boomer parents or grandparents, it’s a hideously effective reminder that they’ll soon be dead.
- What appears to be vinyl or aluminum siding flanking the washbasin is almost innovative in its inanity. Who needs quality wainscot when you’re reimagining the wheel as a scissured brick?
- Not quite clashing, the gray of the mirror’s frame and sink’s cabinet subtly yet powerfully enhances this collective unsightliness.
- Who wants to see a lovely print whenever they approach their throne when they can settle for two ugly, grayscale photos of sere skeins evocative of the worthless falderol accumulated by someone’s senile great-grandfather?
- Like all furnishings composed of perennially contemptible wickerwork, that wastebin belongs in another, or perhaps a fireplace. In a household occupied by a human family hailing from planet Earth, it couldn’t contain more than a few hours’ refuse.
- Its design ought never have maculated an interior after 1975, but that suspended lamp really does befit postwar pastiche of this hideosity.
Prior generations — even Boomers and Xers largely devoted to indiscriminate rejection of tradition — usually possessed and exercized a measure of discernment so to omit irredeemably horrible artifacts of prior popularity whenever resurrecting others. On those rare occasions when Millennials actually retrospect — or worse, essay to revive the past in maladroit mimicry — they exhibit all the acumen and authenticity of a stupid and sheltered child.