I am one of 10 women in the country who doesn't like Trading Spaces
or While You Were Out
. I didn't even like Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
even though I have quite a number of male friends who fall into the "doesn't like football but kind of likes men in tight Spandex pants" category. I don't hate the shows because they're boring. I don't hate them because the hosts are peppy, former-cheerleader types. I mostly just hate them because the finished rooms on these shows are almost always ugly and cheap looking. I really don't want to use a Brillo pad to sponge paint my bathroom purple. And if I say I don't like the color orange, please don't design my bedroom to look like a giant citrus fruit and tell me I'll grow to love it.
Unfortunately, a large portion of my female friends have, at one point or another, been sucked into the Trading Spaces
vortex. My good friend, Logan, an otherwise sane individual, turned to me one day and said, "Did you know you can use broken flower pots to decorate a fireplace?" Well, now that I think about it, no, I did not. Trading Spaces
has infiltrated my life and forced me to have conversations with people about what sort of throw pillows I want to put on my loveseat. Y'know, if I had a loveseat.
The people on the show are so-called professionals, but for some reason they think it's cool to make a bedspread out of Astroturf and fake flowers and then surround it by a white picket fence and call it a bedroom
. Or better yet, how about stapling silk flowers to bathroom walls to create a nauseatingly ostentatious backdrop
for shower mildew? Great idea!
So when I read this news article
today, about a family who is suing the reality TV show that "renovated" their home, I felt sort of vindicated, in that "Ah hah! I knew they were evil all along!" sense, even though I've never heard of the reality show in question and, if all of the allegations are true, the family's situation is so awful that it's hard to laugh. But I mean, come on. Somebody has to put Andrew Dan-Jumbo
in his place (preferably one in which shirts are not allowed).