What came first: The TV or the designer hatred for the TV? Hello friends, and welcome to this week’s installment of Arlyn’s Curmudgeony Design Takedown. Today’s episode? My lack of tolerance for hiding the things in our homes that we need and very regularly use just because they aren’t “aesthetic.” That black remote control? ::Gasp:: The cable modem? MAKE THAT THING INVISIBLE INSIDE A RATTAN BOX STAT! I’m not mad at the desire to have utilitarian things that look nice and surprisingly displayable, but loving design and a beautiful room don’t have to also come with a degree from MacGyver University for how to disguise everything in sight to look like a vintage oil painting or woven basket.
For anyone reading this who is saying, “Arlyn, it’s all about reducing visual clutter,” to that I say: “Yes, I agree, but also, you probably only think that because you read it in an article I wrote a decade ago.” While I get anxiety spikes when things are out of place, cluttered, or untidy, I also prefer my home to work effortlessly without barriers I’ve created for myself in the name of Pretty. Cable management is one thing, but no one should have to sacrifice proper lighting (#TheBigLight) or being able to change the channel because a faux stack of books covering your cable box is blocking the signal.
Who are we doing this all for? Ourselves? Our visitors? We can’t bear to look at a thermostat? A doorbell chime box? Honestly, I think this all hit a fever pitch when images of homes, both by designers and amateurs alike, became a huge part of our everyday vernacular. As someone who has produced hundreds, if not thousands, of luxury home magazine features, I know how much is edited out because cords and light switches are as hated by art directors as they are by designers. This created an aesthetic culture where we all got used to seeing houses without functional things like outlets, and now assume we also need to find a way to Photoshop them out, except in real life. [Side story: I was watching an episode of House Hunters last night, and the featured homebuyer was a woman who made financial empowerment content for social media. She kept saying her home needed to be “aesthetic” and was hyper-focused on white countertops and black hardware because she claims it’s what she needed for her audience to see her as successful. My eyes are only just coming forward from the back of my head.]
Phew! Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, let’s explore all the “designer disguises” that I find mostly unnecessary, and no one should be pressured into thinking is necessary, either:
Let’s start with the most polarizing topic: The television. I’ve written on this specific subject in the past and got a ton of opposing feedback. Many agreed with me that a TV is not a thing that needs to be hidden. It’s a part of our lives, and just because it’s a “big black box” doesn’t mean it’s hideous and should be banished. Others brought up some good points about not liking the distraction, and that it’s helpful to put it away behind cabinetry or art or some other concoction when not in use to focus on other things like connecting with loved ones, reading, or conversation. I’ll accept that, because I know that we all have different lifestyles and media tolerances.
But more and more, it just feels like this thing that many of us use daily is some kind of smear on an otherwise beautiful space. Mind you, TVs are smaller and more inconspicuous than ever before. The freestanding furniture-like Sony set that graced my parents’ living room when I was a kid is a far cry from the flat panels of today, and yet we’re obsessed with faking people and ourselves that one simply does not exist in our living rooms.
By far, my most pressing question to all of us here today, whether you’ve thought about hiding your TV or hate the idea, is as follows: Why are we putting so much pressure on ourselves for design/styling perfectionism? I know that our homes are our sanctuaries, and they should make us feel at peace. Visual clutter really can raise our anxiety levels, but are we jumping through performative hoops to make ourselves feel better, or because the Internet slash the design industry, the big “They,” told us we need to hide all these non-decorative things away from the world if we want to be perceived as having good taste, or better yet, chic (the highest podium finish of all the home style qualifies, evidently)?
It should come as no surprise that any accoutrement to the hideous television would also need to be shrouded in secrecy, concealed from our delicate eyes. Does the above basket solution look cleaner and tidier than the open crate with cables popping out of it? Yes, sure. A spaghetti-like knot of cords would inspire anyone to find a solution, but the sheer number of videos on the Internet dedicated to cutting holes in baskets and boxes to preserve a pristine shelfie or mantel is dizzying. As long as there isn’t a mess of long cords spiraling from it, collecting dust bunnies, a cable box, or some remotes even just set in a tray on a shelf or atop a book or two is good enough for me.
I preface this section with the fact that I very much like the way a seamless kitchen with panel-ready appliances looks. But it’s such a funny thing that someone decided to think up one day. “How do we hide the very things in this space we need the most?” Refrigerator and freezer? Make them guess! Dishwasher? Just open drawers and cabinets until you find it. Obviously, the people who live in a home with this type of kitchen are familiar with and learn where everything is, so none of this is a real concern. However, let’s ponder for a moment the question I keep bringing up: Why are we even doing this?
To me, there is a difference between making something look better/sleeker, like good-looking air vents, for instance, and covering up something because you’ve been led to believe it’s ugly. I had this thought recently while reading the newsletter sent out by Apartment Therapy’s Design Director Danielle Blundell. She’s a longtime work peer whom I respect greatly, but in the latest email blast, a reader asked her for her advice on covering her doorbell chime box in her rental. In an attempt to provide a solution, she recommended putting a piece of art on a hinge to cover it up. Sure, that works, but it’s the kind of thing that reminds me of how it has felt to be in a mid- to plus-size body most of my adult life. So much guidance on how to dress your body to essentially cover yourself up as best you can to trick people into thinking you’re somehow thinner than you are, rather than nurturing a culture of acceptance and self-love. “Cover it up!” is the name of the game. Maybe the doorbell chime box is totally fine and can just…remain visible, hm?
Left to right: Nickel Door Chime | Knock Doorbells Steens Resonator Door Chime | Satin Brass Builder Chime Door Chime
I can get down with a replacement of a cheapo, white plastic chime with something more stately like the above, but hiding it away in shame is just not something I think we should be putting our energies into.
I’ve written so many stories in my past (by request) for other outlets about how to hide your thermostat, your electrical boxes (sure, these are fairly ugly), and all those kinds of things. My answers were always along the lines of what Danielle suggested for the reader’s doorbell chime. It usually involves a hinge and a piece of art. It’s kind of the go-to. Sure, looking at a pretty piece of art is always going to be better than looking at a digital read-out, but for thermostats in particular, I urge you to leave them alone. After some research, it has come to my attention that they do not work as well at recording ambient temperature when the airflow is restricted, as it would be behind a canvas, etc. Meaning, the temperature control is hindered, and that’s a thermostat’s main purpose.
This one is funny to me. I think a tucked-away outlet inside a drawer is genius as a charging station, but as soon as we get into faux painting (above) or offset drawers that you need to keep open when the outlet is in use, that’s where you lose me. Not to take anything away from an artist or woodworker who could create something like the above—it’s very, very well done—but how scratched up will that be from outlet prongs not exactly meeting their entry points? Perhaps this is a prime example of form over function. There are many beautiful outlet covers out there. Do we really need to be playing hide-and-seek with them?
The same applies to cords. As I’ve mentioned, I’m not against managing cables from becoming tangled messes. If you have the means and the will, running cables behind the walls is totally fine. But I have a secret to share: Your house will never be as cord-free as that professionally photographed and retouched home you admire because many, if not all, of the lamp cords and the like have been deleted from the final image. Let us embrace the reality of our homes, lamp cords and all.
And finally, a little bonus, because I don’t necessarily think this is a “designer” thing more than it is a “styled and photographed magazine home” thing. From experience, many family photos are often removed from houses featured in print for privacy reasons, but do me a favor and take a look at all the gorgeous rooms you have saved in your bookmarks and Pinterest folders. How many of them have family photos? A little corner table with rows of petite frames with abuela, cousins, best friends’ babies? Gallery walls of non-descript or aesthetic abstract art, yes, but hallways full of mismatched frames with 4″x6″ prints are a thing of the past. I want to know who lives in a home when I see it. I want to see their life, their family, their memories. Find a way to display them in a way that feels tidy, if you must, but can we please start decorating with family photos again?
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Friends, I’ve reached the end of my complaints. I love a beautiful home as much as the next person; after all, I’ve made my living writing about beautiful homes. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, and all of that. But something I won’t do is just accept a bizarre status quo I don’t perfectly align with to salvage some illusion of having perfect taste and an even more pristine home. Release yourself from the need for flawlessness. Leave your remote on the coffee table. Print out that photo from your family vacation and put it on your console table. Have outlets you can see and use, and not have to hunt for. You deserve it.
Until next time…
Opening Image Credits: Design by Mel Burstin | Photo by Tessa Neustadt | From: Mel’s Living Room Reveal
This is SO refreshing!! Thanks for acknowledging the everyday reality of non-magazine spread homes!
Yes to all this. I want to add books to this list. On the one hand, some people find their presence to be a mark of educated taste and/or they add texture or whatever. On the other, it’s visual clutter. There’s a fair amount of pressure to prettify book collections and bookcases–punctuating solid rows of books with decorative objects to “give the books breathing room,” arranging books by color, using book covers, turning spines to the wall. That last one is especially amusing but, like family photos, which seem to be “okay” if they’re more artistic or styled artistically or tucked away, there’s definitely pressure to make books visually pleasing, as if it’s not enough to, you know, be a reader with these super practical resources close at hand, organized in a handy way, like alphabetically. I also want to add some other perspectives on the specific items mentioned. I’ve never been a big TV person so, when I got my own apartment, I felt no need for a TV. It was liberating and, yes, the living room looked and functioned better, as a space for socializing, reading, whatever and not centered on passively watching something. If I were to… Read more »
Yay!!!!!! Thank you for this, Maya – as a person with 6,000 + books I could not agree more!!! Thanks for the article Arlyn, once again, you hit the nail on the head!