Sunday, November 2, 2014

SPLAT

"Might as well turn 'em into handbags now," I thought when I read that there were only six white rhinos left. "Some spokesperson could rabbit on about freezing the poor beasts' DNA against a utopian time when science will resurrect all the beasts mankind has made extinct – thereby justifying the slaughter and be a lot cheaper than keeping them in a game park." Cynical? Dead right, if you'll pardon the pun.

The news set me thinking of friends of mine, with their liking of "hair-on-hide" mid-century chairs, and, by extension, of the history of animal parts in decoration – and there is a long history of this usage. Our Brno dining chairs are upholstered in a leather so fine it could be pleather but, besides shoes and belts, there are no other bits of dead animals lying around the place. Not for us that by-product of the industrialized source of steak, the cow-hide rug, or even hipster Mongolian lambskin pillows, and certainly no taxidermy (however beautiful the butterfly wings and beetle carapaces might be) or, for that matter, horn-legged furniture. I don't even like antelope- or leopard-patterned carpet – there's something faintly ridiculous about reproducing a natural pattern in such a way it resembles nothing more than a cosmic skid mark of roadkill on the floor.


Then, on another blog, I read that some purveyor of zebra skin rugs and pillows had "reached out" to the blog author about their wares and, my distaste at that awful piece of cant used instead of "contacted me" or "wrote to me" apart, I realized how unremarkable it is to see zebra skins on floors and furniture, and there I was, in my innocence, thinking zebras might be a protected species. I suppose they are farmed and funneled to a processing plant and emerge ready for the sofa and the floor. Zebra, undoubtedly, is the upper-class version of the cow-hide rug available to everyone at Ikea for $199.


My problem with it all is this: in my early student days I was allowed into a slaughter house to photograph the proceedings and I have never forgotten the cries of those cows and pigs when they were lined up to be killed. I have never forgotten how pigs scream like human beings. I have never forgotten the the sound of abject sorrow a cow makes when she knows she is going to die. It is those cries, as inarticulate as any I might make in extremis, that I remember each time I see a hide-on chair, a cow-hide or a zebra-hide rug and I wish I didn't.

On the other hand, advice for cows or zebras learning to fly and wishing to avoid the SPLAT of a none-too-soft landing, from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: “The Guide says there is an art to flying", said Ford, "or rather a knack. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.”


I chose two beautiful rooms to illustrate this essay about a purely personal reaction which in no way reflects on the designer's choices or anyone else's for that matter. The bedroom is by McMillen Inc, and the blue room is by Todd Romano. I found the photographs and the photographers unattributed on other blogs via Pinterest. The third room, found on tumblr, has it all!

14 comments:

  1. There has been a trend of taxidermy for a few years now. I think it reached its zenith when the New York Times published a design piece called "The New Victorians" or something like that, about a group of hipsters who plastered their (mostly) Brooklyn walls with the mounted trophies of long ago safaris. Sadly, some of my children and grandchildren have found this trend de-rigeur. My distaste for such things goes back to when I was a little girl and was terribly afraid of a real zebra skin rug in the hall of my grandmother's house. No one quite knew how long it had been in the family or who shot the poor creature, but I found it shameful and frightening. One day I summoned the courage to press the sole of one of my shoes on to the rug and it felt stiff and crinkly like old cardboard. Poor zebra.
    Mrs. S.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anonymous (Mrs S), thank you. I agree ... poor zebra. And poor polar bear, and poor cow, etc.

      Delete
  2. Ten or so years ago,I was on a trip with my young son and we stopped into an antique store. As we wandered around I noticed an array of small to medium animal figurines. This shop comprised an entire house and on the landing there sat a Golden Retriever puppy. In the room directly across from the pup was a bed on which a Yorkie was lying. I touched the Yorkie,and because I'd had one, I knew it was real. The Golden was real. Made in China. I rushed to the front desk and ask if they knew what they were selling. They eat dogs and cats in Asia and trade the skin and fur for bags, shoes, fur trim and figurines. jd

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. JD, thank you. Somehow even more horrifying yet why it should be, is hard to say.

      Delete
  3. I've never liked taxidermy (and after being quoted as such in Elle Decor a number of years ago received a lot of attention and nasty emails).In the same vein I've never understood why Vegans insist on eating fake 'meat-tasting' substitutes . I also can't understand why people who would ever have a dead animal in their house will have a faux-taxidermy rug, etc. It's the same thing isn't it, with less cruelty. I say you only live once -it should be REAL (and not dead).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ArchitectDesign, thank you. Faux taxidermy is about as logical as zebra-printed cowhide.

      Delete
  4. My problem with animal skins in designs has been that they are still often tainted by brassy glam interiors, but I do appreciate them in anyway for the patterns and warmth they offer. I’m speaking of the fabrics and rugs inspired by animal skins patterns. Nature inspires so many designs without being tortured – well, dependent on the designer’s skill not directly. I couldn't have enough praise for what is undeniably at the summit of the category, Le Manach’s hand-woven silk velvet animal patterns. Calling them roadkill designs is going too far!
    I don’t see how anyone could feel any other way than you having had your experience but calling carpet design inspired by an animal's markings roadkill is going too far!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. gésbi, thank you. I did say it was a personal reaction to what I see and believe me the reaction is real – as is the distaste I feel when I see reptile skin, be it real, printed or woven. Cannot abide it!

      A word I did not use, and I think I might have, is "triumphalist". There is something, to my mind, of the triumphalist in spreading animal pattern over the floor and furniture – however, I fear it would not have lessened your dislike of my equating leopard carpet pattern with "a cosmic skid mark of roadkill" (not quite calling it roadkill but I won't argue the point). It might have helped connect to the later mention of the Hitchkiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

      Delete
    2. I believe you! And respect your feelings.
      As for the genuine articles,
      I've always liked the idea of flying carpets.

      Delete
  5. Don't forget that bigger animals hunt and kill slower or smaller animals...
    My big game hunter client told me when I asked him why he had so many trophies, that some (species) such as Zebra, over produce, and they can starve to death when the natural food supply dwindles...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dean Farris, thank you. I know all the arguments that hunters, big game and otherwise, employ to justify what they do, and I do not agree with them. My father-in-law hunted and taught both his sons to do so. Neither they nor I hunt.

      Delete
  6. You had me with the trumpet blast at "reaching out," but the recollection of the abbatoire is as fine as anything in Hazlitt or in Orwell's "Shooting an Elephant." I only wish you'd permit the obvious reflection on others' choices to stand as the innocent observation that it is. And just for the record, I'll settle for the bestiality of the slaughter; the irony of mixed metaphors in decor rather pales, I'd like to think, even in a practitioner's eye. A great blog entry, to be kept.

    ReplyDelete
  7. As always love your writing and your point of view. But I love leopard carpet and it's going to be in almost every room of my house. I love the colors and the pattern. Always have. Always will. Quick pass Professor Blue the smelling salts. So glad we did not inherit some of my husband's uncle's "trophies.

    On the other hand I would like the take the pops of color that are verbally worse than road kill and bang people on the head with them when they use that twee "reaching out" phrase to cover up they got a freebie if they whored themselves out in print. Which is better or worse than being "gifted" of something. The higher tech our world becomes, the more our speech turns to nursery gibberish.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. home before dark, thank you. It's a dastardly blow – knowing a woman of taste would have 'ere to 'ere leopard carpeting – but what can I do but cope?

      "Gifted" is wondrously tasteless – almost as unappetizing as the act of "re-gifting".

      Delete