Fug File: pattern problems

Okay, I’m trying to get hip to the loud patterns people are whipping out lately, but this one is making several of my senses want to go on strike.

There are a lot of MOODS happening. The top part is a prickly flower arrangement that you send to someone you don’t particularly LIKE, but whom you are obligated to suck up to because they are your boss/you need their kidney/they have recently gotten engaged but to someone really douchey. Then there’s a cheerful throw-pillow you’d put on a pale, solid-colored couch, especially if you are one of those people who can get away with a white living room because you have never spilled anything in your life and also you don’t actually live in your house. Next is a strip of trim that matches like half the dishtowels and placemats Williams-Sonoma sells, because they’re always trying to make your kitchen look like people imagine Italian country villa kitchens are. And then there’s a piece of fabric from Satan’s boudoir, like bloody devil serpents aching to wring you like a towel (which I suspect is also his signature carnal move). By the time you’re done with all that, the shoes are a relief, a cold glass of limeade and some aloe to combat a dress that’s giving your retinas a sunburn. In fairness, they totally have their place with another outfit, on another day, and I give her full marks for deciding she should use them here to go big or go home. But that’s the thing about fabric samples — you can stick them all in there for consultation purposes, but you would never use them all in your kitchen together, or else you never WOULD go home.