I’ve got this fantastic idea for an interior design concept. You’re going to love it. Just promise you won’t copy it, okay? I’m putting my trust in you, reader, to do the right thing and let me be the one to realise this visionary idea.
In essence, the idea is for a home interior that evokes being inside a human body. Cool, right? I’m thinking about this in a semi-realist kind of way. I’m imagining a blood red colour palette, low lighting, and perhaps even hidden speakers emitting churing, squelching sounds, strategically positioned at key points in the journey through the space. The whole point, after all, is for it to be a journey, if not a total revolution in what a living space can be.
The tricky part is going to be finding a team willing to take on this ambitious project. Admittedly, I haven’t thought through the logistics at this point, although designers are fairly adventurous around here. When it comes to kitchen and bathroom renovations for Melbourne homes, it’s not uncommon to see some pretty edgy design features. For example, my friend just got an infrared sauna installed in her bathroom, which takes up the entire second floor of her townhouse and also includes a cold plunge pool with indoor cave ‘landscaping’.
Yes, I’m aware that this sort of thing is restricted to certain circles – namely, those with a lot of money to toss around – but the fact is, that’s the playing field I have at my disposal. Do you think I’d be going for a conceptual interior if I wasn’t loaded? I’ve bought and renovated several high end homes now, which means (a) I have kitchen designers on speed dial, and (b) I’m hanging out to do something really out-there.
What I mean is, I’m in a position to take a so-called design ‘risk’. It won’t really be a risk, though, because I’m going to be living in this place, not trying to sell it. This is simply want I want from my own living space.
I’ve got some new scoop on Miranda and Jennifer, and their recent return to the village. Sherrilyn has confirmed our suspicions that they’re here to reboot the teashop, but apparently without a known source for their star ingredient. Apparently, all the podiatrists in the region have gotten wind of precisely what the sisters have been doing with the bags of toenail clippings they’ve been collecting from the clinics, and are now refusing to participate in the scheme.
That means Miranda and Jennifer must either find a new source for nail clippings, or else think of a new ‘secret’ ingredient. Honestly, I’m not convinced that toenails have any beneficial properties when consumed orally, even if they have been finely powdered and cured in a jar with a single moon-charged bay leaf. So I’m holding out hope that they’ll switch to elderflowers or something.
Unfortunately for everyone, their track record isn’t promising. Before they got onto toenails in tea, they were using old compression socks to flavour honey. This was common knowledge among the local wyrd folk and we all avoided the shop like the plague, but the townsfolk were completely oblivious and saw it as a delicacy, praising its ‘earthy’ and ‘curious’ flavour.
We couldn’t tell them. It would have led to yet another shunning, and the last time that happened there were pitchforks involved. It can get pretty messy. So we just let it be and hoped it would go away, which it eventually did when all the podiatrists around Cheltenham stopped supplying the sisters with used compression socks.
At the time, I thought that was because the podiatrists had figured out what the socks were being used for. I assumed they were keeping mum about it so as not to be seen as complicit in the deed. But then they moved right onto supplying toenails clippings, so I guess there must have been some other reason they stopped with the socks.
We can only hope that Miranda and Jennifer have discovered what you can do with flowers and herbs since we last saw them.