The time has come to mock Restoration Hardware
Ever go to a flea market, look at home decor from the last few decades, and ask yourself "What the fuck were they thinking?"
Restoration Hardware is making sure future generations won't miss out on that experience.
From their "Aviator" line, to what I'm going to call "Sudden Death," Restoration Hardware has what you need.
I shall begin with the "vintage" eye chart, which can be yours for $595. No, the price is not wrong. Trust your eyes on this. If you can, that is, after looking at this ode to eyestrain.
Next up is a variation on the Porter's Chair, which Restoration wants you to call "Versailles," perhaps because they realized porters are servants. I'd like to see folks trying to carry out a conversation while sitting in these things; you couldn't hear or see anyone else in the room. On the other hand, they'd be fantastic if they were fitted with iPod speakers. Yours for $2655.
Next is the "Aviator" line. Your grandchildren are going to love you for this, especially if you get the whole set. Or maybe not, since you'll die penniless. The desk costs $2195, and the matching chair is $1550.
Furniture based on trunks. Don't even try to clean this shit. It's fucking canvas. The desk costs $3495.
As awful as the aviator and trunk furniture is, the BUTTON TUFT ALL THE THINGS line is my personal favorite. By which I mean I hate it the most. Working as a cleaner, I learned each indentation in button-tufted furniture is a place lint wants to be. So I had to vacuum each indentation with a dust buster. It's as if you had bellybuttons all over your body (tries very hard not to picture this).
The standard couch is $5985.
Oh. You noticed the lamps. I have mixed feelings about them, because I do believe crystal chandeliers belong behind bars. The extra large is $2995.
It's time to face the "salvaged wood" furniture, which is ideal if you like to worry about germs. So many wonderful uncleanable nooks and crannies! To add to your food poisoning fun: if this furniture gets wet, the finish comes off.
The kitchen island is $2995.
A collection of fake noses. Does it help that they're "Carnival" noses? Or "German Carnival" noses? Perhaps it helps that they are No Longer Available.
Compared to the noses, the $500 fake steering wheel, commemorating the vintage sports car you never owned, is almost a relief.
18 feet of rope for $99. Decorative use only. If you want rope you can use, go to the hardware store.
Be sure to get the display bowl for the rope. Otherwise, people may not understand it's decorative rope that cost a fuckton of money.
Next up:
Sudden Death.
Sometimes called "Don't run in the garden."
Following your impalement, this urn ($349) would make a stylish grave ornament.
Or you could go for the Rest In Pieces wall thing.
Hang it over your bed and wait for it to fall on you, then use it as a grave marker.
Future generations are depending on you. Don't let them down.
Restoration Hardware is making sure future generations won't miss out on that experience.
From their "Aviator" line, to what I'm going to call "Sudden Death," Restoration Hardware has what you need.
I shall begin with the "vintage" eye chart, which can be yours for $595. No, the price is not wrong. Trust your eyes on this. If you can, that is, after looking at this ode to eyestrain.
Next up is a variation on the Porter's Chair, which Restoration wants you to call "Versailles," perhaps because they realized porters are servants. I'd like to see folks trying to carry out a conversation while sitting in these things; you couldn't hear or see anyone else in the room. On the other hand, they'd be fantastic if they were fitted with iPod speakers. Yours for $2655.
Next is the "Aviator" line. Your grandchildren are going to love you for this, especially if you get the whole set. Or maybe not, since you'll die penniless. The desk costs $2195, and the matching chair is $1550.
Furniture based on trunks. Don't even try to clean this shit. It's fucking canvas. The desk costs $3495.
As awful as the aviator and trunk furniture is, the BUTTON TUFT ALL THE THINGS line is my personal favorite. By which I mean I hate it the most. Working as a cleaner, I learned each indentation in button-tufted furniture is a place lint wants to be. So I had to vacuum each indentation with a dust buster. It's as if you had bellybuttons all over your body (tries very hard not to picture this).
The standard couch is $5985.
Oh. You noticed the lamps. I have mixed feelings about them, because I do believe crystal chandeliers belong behind bars. The extra large is $2995.
It's time to face the "salvaged wood" furniture, which is ideal if you like to worry about germs. So many wonderful uncleanable nooks and crannies! To add to your food poisoning fun: if this furniture gets wet, the finish comes off.
The kitchen island is $2995.
A collection of fake noses. Does it help that they're "Carnival" noses? Or "German Carnival" noses? Perhaps it helps that they are No Longer Available.
Compared to the noses, the $500 fake steering wheel, commemorating the vintage sports car you never owned, is almost a relief.
18 feet of rope for $99. Decorative use only. If you want rope you can use, go to the hardware store.
Be sure to get the display bowl for the rope. Otherwise, people may not understand it's decorative rope that cost a fuckton of money.
Next up:
Sudden Death.
Sometimes called "Don't run in the garden."
Following your impalement, this urn ($349) would make a stylish grave ornament.
Or you could go for the Rest In Pieces wall thing.
Hang it over your bed and wait for it to fall on you, then use it as a grave marker.
Future generations are depending on you. Don't let them down.