Design Solutions

for killer clowns

We could all stand to enjoy the less cataclysmic foibles of the rich right now, so it’s Zillow time.

And here we gooooohmygod

It screams late ‘90s nightclub, and I think the lady on the wall has recently been intimate with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man (?) but ALSO, from what I can make out, that pillow on the bed is about Father’s Day. And the thing on the wall to the right is definitely about Father’s Day.

I’m guessing Dad has been divorced for about 2.5 years and had really big plans for this room that didn’t quite pan out. Now he’s moving in with a dental receptionist named Shelly because being single was actually no fun.

This next one is giving off-catalogue Edward Hopper:

Do not LIVE. Do not LOVE. Only LAUGH. This room is where sad, sad circus clowns go when they retire and they just pace the empty room forever, befriending the radiator and the A/C unit next door.

Moving on to a happier space…

This is actually a lovely room! Airy, bookish, and right by the window is a great place to put your—oh holy shit yes that is a taxidermied ostrich:

You could not pay me enough money to sit in that chair drinking my coffee and knowing there’s a dead ostrich peering over my shoulder.

I’d be happy to play ring toss with those bull’s horns, though.

Here’s one from the Department of Awkward Proportions:

I do enjoy that it looks like they just lopped off the tops of the canopy posts, like trimming the top of a Christmas tree that’s too tall for your living room.

You know how sometimes your mannequin limbs just really pile up on the kitchen counter? You are not alone:

Happens to everyone.

Okay, brace your eyes:

Don’t just settle for the world’s largest welcome mat. Make sure it’s also in jarring colors and facing the stairs, not the door—so it welcomes YOU, not the pesky delivery boy. (And yes, this is from a private home, not an inn.)

This next one is actually really cool, I just have some concerns…

Okay, so I love the idea of a bunk bed that closes. Especially with the windows there. I even love that there are twelve beds! Twelve kids (grandkids?) all hopping into bed in unison, the doors sliding shut behind them all, locking them in for the night like you’re hiding them from the Stasi… Waking up to the sound of twenty-four little fists knocking on the doors, asking to be let out…

What really concerns me (me and my claustrophobia) are those bottom bunks. The moment that door is closed, you’re completely encoffined, which is not a word I enjoy using.

Moving right along, can I interest you in the Executive Toilet Suite?

Do you need to keep your files close at hand as you think through life’s problems on your private throne? Perhaps take a Zoom meeting on the john but look like you’re at a desk? We’ve got you covered.

Speaking of offices, here’s a nice cozy little room for getting work done.

You’ve got a bull and a jaguar staring you down, plus whatever’s in that cage in the corner, and you can just make yourself right at home and start your extremely out-of-touch memoir.

Okay this is also a celebratory post because a couple of weeks ago I passed 20,000 subscribers and I vowed to Zillow at you all. This Substack is a lot of fun to do, and it’s because of my amazing paid subscribers I’m able to keep most of the craft content free for everyone. I deeply appreciate that. So after the paywall, a few photos of one of the wildest houses I’ve ever seen. It’s never going to sell.