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Shawn: Sheer modern-day mythology. Here, confirmed bachelor Pygmalion ditches ivory virgin Galatea and goes for the gusto with a Neoclassical man-nymph born of all his dreams. The key elements are all perfectly updated with just the right ersatz spin. The petal pink bas relief depicts love goddess Aphrodite — certainly to be incarnated as Lady Gaga – and the locale has shifted seamlessly from the temple at Cyprus to a condo in Cyprus Springs.
The melon hues of the walls and Tyrian-hued upholstery add an air of verdant fecundity capped off by fake blooms and foliage as offerings tossed at the feet of the goddess. And the sacred Altar of Love: a mini-bar adorned with Martini shakers, shot glasses, and doilies as the votives and incense that will breathe life into the unyielding embrace of faux marble.
David K. publishes Nightcharm, the only gay porn site ever to be featured on Oprah and regularly compared to Martha Stewart Living.
Shawn Baker is the Executive-Editor of Nightcharm and hails from New York. He is a member of its young underclass, a little bit Ann Darrow, a little bit Travis Bickle.
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.
Eric B. does not Facebook, Tweet or blog. He uses the internet to cruise for sex, like god intended. He has leopard print in every room of his house, save one. And he does not apologize.
Heather Corinna is the undisputed diva of online erotica for chicks. She publishes Scarleteen.com and is a sex guru to thousands of teenagers.
Sean Horlor is happy to no longer be using his judgmental prowess for the forces of darkness. He co-hosts a comedy lifestyle reality TV series called Don't Quit Your Gay Job and runs Up Your Alley.
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First, while I fully appreciate the “New Orleans whore house chic” (circa 1890) our hero has attempted, I am prompted, nay compelled to want to take up a collection for him so that he can afford a measuring tape, and thus get the accurate dimensions of a wall for his next wallpaper purchase. Patchwork may work on quilts, but it can be a real destraction on walls when trying to get one’s rocks off. Luckily, there is the mandingo lamp to occupy one’s sight, should the cacophony of wallpaper prove too much of a wood-kill (just don’t peek under the bar, where you’ll find the lawn jocky…)
What’s the haze in this shot? Is it diffusion from light or a bingo hall-like cloud of Pall Mall smoke? And is it me, the angle of the shot, or does that ceiling have a barrel-vault slant? Could this be a Romany wagon with a Victorian design scheme? Maybe Professor Henry Higgins took the show on the road.
This room has successfully been created in such poor taste that I almost didn’t notice there was a naked daddy standing in it. That, alone, is quite an accomplishment.
Being buggered by a statue?
Potential lube-stains on satin upholstery?
I cannot even process the trio of cocktail shakers due to that dizzying flocked pink wallpaper.
Itth pronounthed “moy-ray.” Teh whallpapeh patten beeyhin teh bah itth pronounthed “moy-ray.”
i thought it was ‘mwah-ray.’
where’s the lamp’s other leg?
@ eric: The other leg of the lamp is bent — ala running with the torch, but you can see the calf and the heel behind the right leg.
@ anyone: While we’re on the subject: Anyone have the lamp’s cell number? Look at those arms and calves! Kinda high -wattage hot, that fixture.
Judging by that pose it looks like he’s got a bit of the Captain in him (and judging by that 1970′s Rumpus Room bar and flocked wallpaper quite a bit of Tennille in there, too). Oh, hell, I need some rum just to cleanse the palate contemplating this “eclectic” mess.
When that pattern hits your eye–
like a big Pizza Pie,
That’s a Moiré…
Is it me or are there decorative(?) white gates at either end of the bar?
Perhaps they are to stop the kids getting in there and emptying the bottles down their throats in attempt to make the place look better through a haze of alcohol {IT WON’T WORK}
It would really be helpful if you had that “click on picture to enlarge” feature. There is just so much to take in.
Stunning use of color, texture, and ecclectic elements of classic design. Modern update of the traditional “Blackamoor” torchiere screems “New Money”, “Class”, “Viagra”….Who wouldn’t want to be a part of this daddy’s man-harem? He’s got “Culture” (hence the coffee table book on ottoman)…..he’s got “Class” ( floral tribute on same said ottom), masculine yet sensitive (thoughtfully placed doily on bar). Who would have thought that salmon moire and red flocked brocade could combine in such a whimsically magical way? All in durable scrubbable vinyl of course….MMmmmmmmm sign me up!
i’m thinking it might not be a bar, it might be a staircase ponywall pressed into multi-service. but that means there’s a level of decor hell underneath this one.
I think I just coughed up a lung! Ack! Hairball just came up too! Really, I don’t know where to begin. This room is just wretched with a capital WRETCH! Who imagines these rooms up? I think I need to make an appointment at the eye doctor. I think my corneas have holes burned in them now.
It’s the inside of a gay ghetto genie’s bottle.
MY EYES!!!! IT HURTS MY EYES!!!!
AS WELL AS EVERY OTHER GOOD TASTE NERVE I HAVE!
sometimes i think they just do this on purpose to annoy me. it’s as if they KNOW that somehow, someway, i will see it and it will hurt my brain right down to its core. how could someone NOT be trying to cause pain with such decorating? look at him, he’s sitting there all naked and smug just KNOWING that it worked. it’s like a REALLY REALLY bad episode of Night Gallery. damn you, evil, naked, bad decorator guy. damn you!
Years ago I used to frequent a restaurant. The food was good and it was comfortable. Then, and this was in the 80′s, they ‘redecorated’ the place. Well, it went mauve. Walls, seats, tables, carpet, window treatment, trim. All mauve. They served the same food mind you but it never tasted the same. I stopped eating there.
Now, I’m getting a bad feeling that this is also a restaurant. All sorts of “high class” stuff was thrown in. Some of it our friend had had for years. I get the feeling that people come here to impress themselves and their guests.
I suggest candle light. Only candle light. Maybe that is when the place looks its best. And wine. Lots of wine.
You know that look you get when you want to laugh but you think maybe someone is serious. You’ve got that look. So do I.
the invisible quotation marks are nowhere to be found here.
Oh GOD ! Get me some mind-soap NOW !
When ever I feel that my place needs to be redone. I will just look at this and feel proud of how my place looks. It will save me huge Dollars
reg
There are only two places in the world where flocked wallpaper is ever even remotely appropriate and they are 1) a bordello & 2) a really bad steakhouse and judging by our beaming subject’s apparel (or lack thereof) I have to at least HOPE that we’re in the former. That being the case, I’d agree with @SUAVE that we’re probably looking at one of those free-wheeling Louisiana whorehouses where the het’s are serviced upstairs while the homos are relegated to “special” digs (like these) in the basement. (Note the sloppily hung, dissonant wallpaper and the tacky, claustrophobic drop ceiling. As if you could miss them!) About the best you can say here is that the green satin in the ottoman & chair set goes with the green in the massive genie bottle-shaped spittoon but since those three items go with absolutely nothing else in the room, it’s not much of a compliment, as compliments go.
Still, all is forgiven when the proprietors go to all the trouble of throwing in a life-sized statue of a gorgeous, naked Nubian carved entirely out of Guylian! YUM!
Who needs whores?!
@ Nashbear: That would be a great title for a bad, gay, murder mystery – ” It Went Mauve.”
To quote Joesph Conrad: “The horror, the horror”! So to follow Dash’s comment perhaps we could call this “The Heart of Mauve”?
Or maybe a late 60′s revival classic, called “The Mauve Squad”?
Or to memorialize the late Bea Arthur and sum up the era in which both it and this interior seem to be based “And then there’s Mauve”
“Mauve-elous”
This proves it. Mauve is my least favorite color.
He may look small but his dick is huge.
Your dumb then no offense but u r he looks so cute and sexy
What’s with the three Starbucks travel mugs on the mantel?
The “hazing” in this picture makes me think of spirits and ghost hunting. Perhaps it is merely the haunting effectiveness of age-worn trappings accumulated in this basement I am visualizing. The man in this picture missed an opportunity to mimic the pose of the torch-bearing statue behind him. Alas, there were more opportunities than this that were missed in this room….