Shawn: There’s a dissonance between decor and sexual persona here that’s troubling. Two competing entities are vying for supremacy and the more dominant will imbibe the weaker. I’m thinking Jo versus Blair on The Facts of Life or that thing that happens when a zygote absorbs its twin in utero, but then it still lives on in spirit and wants to kill like in The Parent Trap. Here we have jock-inspired nudie play up against Flower Power and our Bat Boy is doomed be KOed by his own efflorescent surroundings. The baseball cap, sneaks, and tube socks want to be the focal point, but they’re all undone by the robin’s egg blue table cloth, florid rug, and the crocus yellow draperies with matching throw pillows on the leather couch. My fantasy of scoring with a slutty post-pubescent Charlie Brown is compromised now and I feel a little more dead inside than usual.
David: During the 1920s, after a period of working with more subdued colors, Henri Matisse’s palette once again brightened. As well, his ardor for painting patterned backgrounds took on a new impassioned glee. All that went missing were the nude male models. Always we were stuck with a bare breasted female, usually with some sort of Moroccan turban on her head. Yawn. Naked men just weren’t a part of Matisse’s tableaux, and what a pity. Imagine what he could have done with a specimen like our homeowner featured above. It’s all there for us: the oriental carpet competing aggressively with the Clown Flower-like patterned curtains and pillows. Wait…! That blur of robin’s egg blue tablecloth — blowing in a breeze? A window or door ajar? Spectators watching the spectacle? And why not? So what if Matisse would pass this by, we at Lurid Digs honor the arrangement fully. Of this dreams and art are made. Now excuse me while I help this gentle soul to his bedroom. I’m curious if the curtains really do match the rug.
File Under:Floral Attack | Living Room Wreckage
28 Responses to 'Flowers in the Attic'
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David K. publishes Nightcharm, the only gay porn site ever to be featured on Oprah and regularly compared to Martha Stewart Living.
John Calendo is the Executive Editor of Nightcharm, and a life-long Pop Critic @ Large. His work has appeared in Playboy, Blueboy and boy oh boy everything in between.
Shawn hails from New York and is a member of its young underclass, a little bit Ann Darrow, a little bit Travis Bickle.
Heather Corinna is the undisputed diva of online erotica for chicks. She publishes Scarleteen.com and is a sex guru to thousands of teenagers.
Richard writes the infamous queer blog Sturtle.com . His turn-ons include wainscoting, ZZ Top, and sharp-dressed men. Turn-offs: sectionals, pleated trousers, and pina coladas.
Steve is a lost sort of man who zones out, easily, into the foreheads of strangers. He keeps a blog of his drawings here.
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Well, his mother is obviously a seamstress with late-stage glaucoma.
That explains both the handmade offerings and their almost neon glow.
In his nudity, the subject actually does manage to offset himself from the decor in that he’s the closest thing to monochrome in the room except for the white tablecloth.
Love the shoe. You just know they it and its mate spent the prior evening at some suburban rave. There’s never dirt at a rave…..only dirty thoughts.
Go Sox! Oh wait, I meant go find an interior designer. I never did really understand homemade pillows. Especially ones that match the material you made your drapes out of that was on the 90% off rack at Wal-Mart. The same fire that broke out and burned off the poor boy’s pubic hair should flame up again and destroy this room.
Tex, are you gonna hit it?
$10 bucks says yes.
You’re right, sluttishness just doesn’t work in this decor. Even if he was working his hole over with an X-tra Large, black dildo, this room would kill any erotic vibe. I’m surprised he could get an erection. Oh, wait, have I uncovered his fetish? (shudder) Now that’s just wrong.
Why does his upper body look like it’s already 90 years old?
Explanations, please…
There IS a gaping hole in this picture, and it isn’t what’s visible. No, my friends, the gaping hole is in the taste, naturally, of allowing two distinct styles to combine horribly in what one might call the 9/11 of interior design. Witness the country chic of matching curtains and pillow cases slam mercilessly with the drabness that is the semi-oriental rug, while the robin’s egg blue cloth covering table of unknown use mocks us in its innocence.
I need a valium. Or fifteen.
Mark my words, there are plus-size moms across the Midwest wearing muu-muu’s made of that exact same fabric (purchased at JoAnn’s - $1.99 a yard) while strolling down the soft drink aisle at the A&P.
One thing I’ll say in his defense: his A-hole matches virtually everything in the room.
Sorry, that was me. My cookie switched off with warning. That’ll happen. 8D
I’m not certain I buy the “mom’s sewing closet” hypothesis. The shoe is brand new, the socks aren’t remotely dirty, and the hat looks pretty mint and he’s never played a game of baseball in his life.
This boy lives, works, and sews in this room — it’s all his — including the unoriginal, but popular, baseball/jockboy fetish. It’s too bad he couldn’t muster the design skills he shows for fetish and translate it into interior design…
Anonymous,
Your comment about his “A-hole” made me nearly fall out of my chair.
Kudos!
Don’t it make my “browneye” blue!?
tex?
get it before I do. Diggin’ the flower rug and the boston baseball cap.
the pillows, on the other hand, must go.
and his butthole does match the decor. That takes talent.
Love-Stinks, love your comment. It made me burst out laughing.
Love-stinks, that was TOTALLY hilarious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Leticia was a little lonely in 1987 after her daughter Patty moved to Florida to attend clown college and son Stu became a flight attendant for Piedmont (he’s now doing Tokyo runs for Northwest and lives in Detroit.) So Letty redecorated Stu’s room to rent out to local community college students. Pictured is Dirk, who arrived for the January ‘mini-mester’ in 1999, and never left. Letty tries to be very respectful of Dirk’s privacy (although her snooping is evidenced by the floral oven mitt that she inadvertantly left under the sofa cushions last year.) But when she learned about Manhunt at the PFLAG retreat recently, she convinced Dirk to do some posing and freshen up his portfolio for traveling top guys.
Actually, he was the late night pick-up (”that’ll be $75 for an hour, up-front and you can call me ‘Jocko’.” (but his real name is Albert)) of the elderly “confirmed bachelor” gentleman (I’ll call him “Norman”) who actually lives here and who has left the room just as it was when his saintly mother passed away 30 years ago. The Boston loving rent-boy stripped and when walking into the room, his senses rebelled causing him to collapse into unconsciousness. The oriental rug and black velour sofa was almost enough, but the “watersport drapes and matching throw-pillows” were too much for even his pay-for-in-advance rent-boy philosphy. Upon awakening, Jocko complains of his anus hurting and wants someone to “kiss his boo-boo”. Then he takes the ball cap off and notices the navy and white dining room chair drape and the co-ordianting pillows, also on the divan, and collapses once more into sensory over-load.
That’s the best $75 Norman ever spent.
Guys, what the hell is the dark-blue triangle to the upper right of the light blue tablecloth? It appears to have some sort of retro 50’s design on it. And it’s mate appears to be lying on the sofa. I just noticed this now that I’m used to the yellow curtains and other things. I keep returning to this picture as it fascinates me. And I am ashamed.
I think we have finally met Michael!
Hmm. I suspect his hat is pulled down not to shield his anonymity, but to protect his eyes from whatever Day-Glo horrors exist in the other half of the room.
Patrick asked a valid question: Why does his upper body look like it’s already 90 years old?
The answer is no doubt the same answer to the question: why the cap is hiding his eyes? It’s easy to have young looking legs, but the eyes seldom lie. I bet anything under that cap lies Ron Howard, or someone equally bald.
What puzzles me is that THOSE pillows are on THAT leather couch. Both the pillows and the couch are ugly, but they share nothing else in common. Even if the guy has roommates, it’s hard to believe that such mismatched bad tastes could live under one roof. And the most puzzling part is it all seems intentional. I’m with Shawn here: this is a picture full of conflict ready to fall to pieces. One ill wind and the seams will tear.
That raised leg may be a battle position.
meh
Men:
Looks good to me.
Love,
Stevie Wonder
It’s amazing how the addition of one piece of good furniture (an ottoman in the shape of an Irish jockboy) can transform a room and tie everything together. Seriously, his hat, the red letter ‘B’ and the sunlight on his skin are all making this room look alot better.
I disagree with Patrick’s and rear_window’s assertions. The decor-victim’s skin is still youthfully taut (go with me on this); no cottage cheese-like cellulite on the legs or ass. Smooth, spot-free skin. Clear, unbroken skin in the lower facial area. Plus the buzzcut, the big clunky sneakers and what looks like a Superman pendant on a tacky white gold chain all say youthful.
The doughy not-defined chest and choice of shoes do speak ex-raver. And by the way, Jeff, being both an ex-raver and from Arizona, I can tell you that those parties sure get dusty faster than a widow’s china cabinet.
And for the record, though Tex is ambivalent, I would take him on unconditionally… only if my above assessment is true, of course.
Next!
Work! So Eloquent. So Cunty. So True!
All the guys say I’m pretty fly, for a white guy…
Nothing says “bottom” like a floral print.
Well, other than pulling open your butt-cheeks for all the world to peer into your anus . . .