Eric B. does not Facebook, Tweet or blog. He uses the internet to cruise for sex, like god intended. He has leopard print in every room of his house, save one. And he does not apologize
Heather Corinna is the undisputed diva of online erotica for chicks. She publishes Scarleteen.com and is a sex guru to thousands of teenagers.
David: After Richard's recent exploration into minimalism (a Lurid Digs first -- see the post prior to this one), it seemed fitting to slowly ease our way back into the horrors of clutter and mismatched colors by taking on another fairly tame bedroom.
So here are some quick pointers for this sad beige space
1. Want to generate excitement in your room (and a sense of owning a personality that actually has dimensions?) Do not allow the carpeting to jump the molding and start crawling up the walls. The atmospheric effect is too cocooning -- which for many men is a libidinal buzzkill. Especially should your evening be hook-up-centric.
2. Go ahead and LIVE A LITTLE -- unravel your battery charger's cord and place said batteries on a flat surface like a table or even the seat of a chair.
3. Get rid of your old Boy Scouts pup tent -- that you're presently using for a bedspread -- and splurge for something with colors and patterns from Bed, Bath and Beyond.
O.K., so that's it for our attempt to unpack minimalism. We miss our hoarders and design-challenged gay dwellers. Look for their return next week!
Richard: Going bare isn't for everyone. It's hard work and requires loads of planning. If you think over-the-top is daunting, just try going under-the-top.
Seriously, any idiot with a Walmart gift card can buy a bunch of crap for the casa. Scuffed table? Put a doily on it! Hole in the wall? That inspirational cat poster will cover it just fine. Maximalism can be artful, but the way most people do it, it's more properly called "thrift store tornado aftermath". Or "hoarding".
Minimalism, though? That takes balls. Designers can dream about a minimalist room, but if that room hasn't been properly drywalled, taped, and painted, fuck it, game over. Do you trust your contractors to pull off stunts like that? If so, please pass me their numbers, because at last count, I had 27 in my contacts list, and tragically, all were born without clues.
This sparsely decorated monk's bunk is what I'd call "mostly successful". If the walls were a more personal color and the outlet weren't so plastic-y, maybe we could assume they were thoughtful choices. However, it's more likely that we've stumbled into an apartment complex whose owner went hog wild at Home Depot's annual Dover White sale. That said, I'd fuck the shit out of the navy/gray headboard and bed--so long as they've been Scotchgarded for easy clean-up, of course.
David: There's nothing like self-awareness married to consideration to ease the potential pain you might cause a loved one who harbors a cleanliness fetish. And because this guy is aware that he's a slave to his various ADD compulsions, he is keeping things real for his mom by:
• Bringing his own snacks, lots of snacks (like his favorite cabernet to compliment his Captain Crunch), carefully assembled on a placemat for end table protection.
• Having a dime on the ready should he need to go down to the corner to make a phone call to report a fire. (Do phone booths even exist anymore?)
• Lugging along an ugly blanket to protect an even uglier sofa from any beverage spills or free-flying body fluids that might erupt after abandoning ESPN to make a scheduled appearance on Chatterbate. (Or maybe he'll be Skyping with his FB in Prague -- despite the time zone shift due to DLST).
Our lone style recommendation would be to get a decent size painting hung over the couch, preferably something monochromatic so as not to clash with the clashing sofa patterns. Or a large mirror would work too, great to watch himself scooting across the floor in his socks, doing his best Risky Business impersonation.
Richard: Ignore, if you can, the linens, which are anything but linen. Suffice it to say that the owner of this poorly feng shui-ed Airbnb cubbyhole doesn't give two bumps of Boudreaux's Butt Paste if his guests break out in rashes after sleeping on 110% acrylic dropcloths.
No, there are bigger issues looming here, like cracks in the bottomless abyss of Cost Plus World Market home decor. The first is those wall hangings, which...I mean, given the stats on most Scruff profiles, I know that there's a shortage of rulers out there, but don't people own straight-edges anymore? A scrap of picture molding? A disused curtain rod? A vintage Kris Lord dildo, perhaps? Shit like this isn't whimsical, it's sloppy, and positioned so low to the bed, it presents a real safety hazard for the vacationing couple who've stumbled home from Senior Frog's to engage in a clumsy three-way with their coked-up, swing-shift bartender. Though I suppose the sheets will clean up nicely.
Then there's the other problem, which is WHY IN THE NAME OF BARBARA HERSHEY IS THAT MATTRESS LEVITATING? Is someone expecting a booty call with Beelzebub? Drop the molly, girl, you in danger!
Eric: As a double Capricorn, I must admit that I like it when a guy invites me to come over, and when I get there he's already naked. It's so efficient.
(History lesson: 'wanna come over?' is what used to be code for beer and unspecified sodomy long before 'Netflix and chill' came into usage. Then, as now, '...and hang out' = anal.)
So now we're inside with a naked man. What to do? Take down the large poster, of course, and put it in the dining nook where it belongs. Then paint the walls a nice, quietly masculine color like loden green.
Next step is a 2/3 scale Edwardian hall tree. Or a nice Shaker bench and peg rack. Clothing torn off in a fit of passion and strewn down the hallway is hot. On the living room floor, it's just tacky.
Can't help but see the chair or couch or loveseat, no matter how I try not to. That particular plaid reached its apogee with the neo-traditional cults of the Reagan era and has been in Rent-A-Center decline ever since. Slipcover it immediately.
But maybe fauxpholstery isn't your thing. I can work with that. You've got 5 colors in front of you. Pick three of them, hopefully not including the red. Now list everything you need to finish the room -- lamps and shades, artwork, frames and mattes, skeet blankets, toss pillows, objets d'art, semen-masking scented candles, curtains, and so forth. Do half of them in your main color, about a third in your second choice, and the rest in the other.
There's also a tease of repro Mission here. That's fortunate, as you can goose it in several directions. Historical accuracy would call for wrought iron, Saltillo tiles, and pierced tin. That's a bit too dykey for this love nest. You're a gay man, so break out the Aubussons and Art Nouveau.
This type of shorthand masc furniture, if you take the shortcut and buy the entire suite, will make it seem like you did a one-stop at the Butch By Default store. If you're in danger of overdose, slap on a distressed coat of pigment to some of the pieces. Most surely, the coffee and end tables will suffice.
Going overboard will tilt this room into Laura Ashley painted cottage territory. And that will leave the menfolk running for the door.