Sunspace:Are there any Dopers who can clarify the custom [of unused company rooms]?
Miss Manners suggests that it’s descended, at least in the US and possibly from European custom before that, from the early American concept of the “front parlor” or “best room” that was used infrequently, but regularly. When somebody was laid out for a funeral or the minister came to call, the “best room” could be used, but not on ordinary occasions by plebes like the family and their usual guests.
Eventually, as fewer solemn occasions or grand visits took place at home, and manners became less formal, the “best room” became almost entirely vestigial. But many people continued to feel that it was a source of pride or a sign of taste to have a room specially furnished for elegant company, even if they no longer had any company they considered elegant enough to use it.
Needless to say, the vestigial “best room” that nobody ever actually uses falls in the category of “too good for you” manifestations that etiquette doesn’t consider really proper. A “decorative room” that looks like a room and could function as a room, but is not allowed to be used as a room, is just as meaninglessly pretentious (if not downright inhospitable) as a “decorative towel” that looks like a towel and could function as a towel but may not be used as a towel.
We have a parlor. It is painted deep red above the chair rail and blueish gray below. The floors are hundred-year-old hard wood, buffed to a mirror shine. It has a tea table (with pullout cup shelves) between two Italian provincial chairs, which are upholstered with rose vine lattice on the seats, and cherubs and fountains on the backing. On the table is a white porcelain French phone with roses and gold accents. The multi-layered curtains are a very frilly and billowy linen lace. There are large bridal portraits of our daughters with intricate maple frames, covered in gold leaf. There are accent tables with silk flowers and glass-encased brass clocks. There is a very expensive wool rug with a deep red center surrounded by roses in reds, pinks, and blueish grays. Our piano is in there, with dainty jewel-encrusted ceramic and crystal figurines on top of it. There is an oblong Maillol portrait of a girl in a blueish gray dress and bonnet above it in an antique frame. It has an interesting history. It was once owned by Bobby Labonte, who gave it to one of his servants, who sold it at auction. The buyer gave it to my sister. And she gave it to us. There is a lead-crystal chandelier with wrought iron peachy pink flowers. It’s on a dimmer switch, of course. The light and electrical fixtures were inspired by Jean Claude Baptiste Odio.
We have actually had people who refuse to walk through the room, or step on the rug, or touch anything in it. But there have been others who do as we do, and stand in it or just outside it, gawking, marvelling, and admiring. We do not have the room because we are pretentious. (It adjoins the most comfortable and cozy great room you’ll ever see.) We saved money for years to afford it. We have the room because it is beautiful. And we love beauty.
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Update for those who participated in the IMHO thread: we found the perfect maid! She is obsessive-compulsive, loves to buff floors, and works on Friday.
Good thead! I should add that my mother is obsessive/compulsive about her DINING ROOM! It is stocked with expensive waterford crystal gobletst, and limoges chine (none of which EVER get used-they are just washed and dried once a year, then rturned to the cabinet).
About my bathroom…I stock it with oddball reading material (I pick updiscatrded old magazines from the library-usually copies of NSATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC, LIFE, COLLIERS-all from the 1930’s-40s! I like my guests to feel at home!
It’s interesting that your friends who think you ought to spend 50 dollars on a place setting of the china or silver they picked out for their wedding will then throw a dinner party and not use the china or silver you bought them, because you are not good enough for it.
I hate it when there’s a mirror directly across from the toilet. I can’t stare into my own eyes when I’m taking a shit; so I have to look away.
I’m thinking of picking up some artwork for my bathroom. Maybe a print of Garden of Earthly Delights by Bosch, or perhaps that creepy painting from Manos: Hands of Fate.
I just generally hate all the efforts to make bathrooms seem like something they’re not. It’s a place to piss, and shit, and wash yourself. Certainly not dinner-party conversation, but bathrooms could be a good deal more comfortable if their owners would stop trying to make them feel like they’re for another purpose. I want to go to the bathroom in the bathroom, dammit, not the fucking parlor. Screw the decorative cozies and poofy fabrics, and just make sure it’s clean and has the essentials like usable soap and towels.
I agree about the bathrooms. Floating votive candles are bad enough, but the toilet lid covers are extremely anti-male. You have to be a contortionist to hold the lid up while you pee, or else you have to squat and do it, which rather strains muscle memory.
Thanks by the way, Sunspace and Elysian, for the comments on our parlor. And C3, our worst nightmare would be a wild and curious toddler cut loose in there! We have cats, and although they walk through, they understand that there is something ominous and forboding about the room. They do not dally there, and they do not jump up on anything.
Heh, I once stayed in a hotel that put rose petals in toilet. I didn’t notice until I finished my business, and my heart almost leapt from thoat. Thought I had shat blood!
The best ones are those magnifying makeup mirrors. Whoah, I’m HUGE!
Re: Clothes that are relegated to the rag-bag. My darling Marcie recently and ruthlessly weeded my tee shirt drawer and CUT my old and favorite tee shirts into RAGS. It was like finding one’s family murdered and butchered. When I asked why she didn’t cut her own old clothes into rags, she said it was because she might someday wear them again. Perfectly logical when you really think about it.
Re: Decorative soap. My darling Marcie gave me, as a present, a new and lovely bathroom “set” for my own exclusive use in my own exclusive bathroom. She told me I could pick out my own “masculine” decorative soap to be placed in the decorative soap holder. Instead, I filled it with marbles. Marbles are pretty; I like them and I’ve never seen anyone try to wash their hands with one.
Re: Decorative towels. My darling Marcie buys them, puts them on display, yells at me when I use them and then buys new ones because the ones I’ve used can no longer be considered decorative. This cycle repeats itself endlessly and has become one of the shared experiences that contribute to the longevity of a relationship.
But more than anything, people should remember that having a pretty bathroom is not incompatible with having a usable bathroom.
For example, my aunt’s powder room was really pretty, with a whole seashell motif going on. If there’s one thing my aunt is big into, it’s decorative knickknacks and shit. She’s an antiques dealer. Anyway, this bathroom was highly decorated, yet very usable. The toilet didn’t have any poofy covers. There was molded soap, but it was clearly for use. There was towel rack holding several regular terrycloth hand-towels. There was a little shelf unit, with some decorative items, but they weren’t decoy towels and soap. IIRC, there was a silver hairbrush and hand mirror. I guess the mirror could actually come in handy if you wanted to look at the back of your head. There were some glossy magazines. (I don’t find Architectural Digest to be primo reading material for the can, but hey, it’s better than nothing.) And glory be to Og! On the bottom shelf of the thing was SPARE TOILET PAPER!
Which brings me to my #1 bathroom pet peeve: Why don’t people store some spare toilet paper in the bathroom!?
Have you ever noticed that some decorative soap is really not very decorative? I have the ugliest decorative soap you’ve ever seen. Someone gave it to me for Christmas. It looks like rectangular slabs of beef aspic with bits of last week’s leftovers encapsulated in it. One piece appears to have slices of hot dogs floating in there; another seems to be embedded with spinach fettuccini. It’s revolting.
I would no more put that in my bathroom than I would put the cat’s litterbox on the kitchen counter. I haven’t thrown it away yet, though. It was a gift! I’ll let it age in the closet for a while, and then get rid of it during spring cleaning. I don’t claim that this is logical.
You shit in one room and wash in the other.