Closet Case

Richard: Lurid Digs has always cast its goggling, gimlet eye on dodgy design choices: terrifying sofas, unkempt bedrooms, Babylonian towers of tchotchkes, and so on. What we've never done is peek inside people's closets.

That's because closets are safe spaces where it's perfectly okay to stash the good china, the bad china, yesterday's laundry, and the cat food that you bought two weeks ago but haven't managed to stack in the pantry. Fuck the Container Store: a clean, uncluttered closet says that you've either got a very sick, homicidally inclined mind or you're a Republican housewife who arranges shoes alphabetically by designer to hide her self-loathing shame. You know which one you are, Melania.

But this? This is exactly what a closet should look like. (Though admittedly, it's the size of a $5,000-a-month studio in Tokyo.) The clothes are orderly, but not Patrick Bateman orderly. The clutter is appropriately cluttered. The color screams either "oops paint" from the Habitat for Humanity ReStore or "left by the previous owner". And the terrifying industrial carpeting is...well, wearing socks is advised.

But that's not all. The most laudable thing about this closet is that the owner has chosen to hide his most appalling possessions in here. If that tower computer, pressboard desk, and stolen-from-an-office-park swivel chair were in the bedroom, we'd be tsk-tsking so loud, the neighbors would think an army of cyborg raccoons had invaded the neighborhood. As it is, we consider placing those items out of sight a blessed act of charity. Move over, dearest Mommy Teresa: someone should nominate this homeowner for sainthood.