Recently I've been thinking about doing a bit of interior design at home. Alright, I really just mean clearing up the piles of junk the lie about the place. As I began some research I quickly came to the conclusion that looking at pictures of nice houses is probably preferable to living in one. My natural messiness would render any 'design' unrecognisable in a matter of hours. I took inspiration from the 1970s home interiors bible, Terence Conran's 'The House Book' and also Mary Gilliat's 'The Decorating Book' (1981), where everything looks very brown and reassuring.
I spotted a familiar friend among the children's bedroom section. O-ho! No Owl-Octopus conundrums here. But wait! My eyes froze on W as I scanned along the alphabet frieze. W is for... Walrus?
|Call me Ishmael...|