The metre-and-a-half wide frame has hung empty above my bed since July. I paid a man to hang it. I'd harboured, to begin with, reservations about how my feminism and my employment of somebody else to execute the job dovetailed awkwardly, but after I hit myself in the face with a hammer one night, not understanding the difference between a nail at 45 degrees into a diving wall and a drill with a spiral anchor into a brick wall, I decided the most feminist act would be, in fact, to use my hard-earned feminist money to feministly delegate somebody better qualified to help me out - who yes, just so happened to be a man. I have never looked back. The room needed something above the bed - that's why I got the frame and had it hung - but I couldn't rush to fill it. It needed to be right. I didn't want a generic Ikea print: they can satisfy the dead area behind the door in the living room because that is a neutral space. Bedrooms - bedrooms must be ...
Ya think?
ReplyDeletestretchers = bad smells. If you love them, love the smell. x
ReplyDeleteI want to hire you to walk around beside me and say that sort of stuff because it makes the stuff *I* say look relatively harmless in comparison and that is a pretty amazing feat. And I want to meet you even more now! And that's all.
ReplyDeleteIan- it's just a suggestion.
ReplyDeleteJess- There's a joke in there somewhere...
P- I want to meet you too! I totally have no social filter, though. It might get us into trouble.
x
Laura & P - I would love to join you guys, as I DON'T say any sort of thing, in hopes of a bit rubbing off. brilliant.
ReplyDeleteCamille- LET'S DO IT!
ReplyDelete