In Competition 3376, prompted by news that avocado bathrooms are back in vogue, you were invited to compose poems about interior decor trends of yesteryear. Reading them, bubble chairs and spider plants swam before my eyes. Jane Smillie’s list deserves a mention:
Artex and lava lamps, bamboo and tie dye,
Pop art and sideboards and stereo hi-fi,
LP racks and shagpile and chakra batik,
These are what passed for Seventies chic.
As does David Blakey’s light verse:
That rocket lamp’s no longer mine.
I can’t remember what I did.
But I’ve seen one for sale online
For almost seven hundred quid.
There was a suggestion of Betjeman in many of the entries (‘Are the requisites all in the toilet?’). Among other noteworthies were Jayne Osborn, Tracy Davidson, C. Paul Evans, Max Ross, Elizabeth Kay. The winners get £25.
Come friendly bombs and fall, defile
This bedroom’s shaggy orange pile,
This tiki bar, this benchtop tile,
Macramé owls!Oh, white-etched mirror on the wall,
This jungle room’s the worst of all,
Brown velvet chairs, cheese-fondue hall,
Lime-flowered towels.This home’s not fit for humans now,
Its lawn-green hues would shock a cow
Down parquet stairs. Come fall, kapow;
Grind chrome to paste.Please smash this avocado joke,
This purple lino over oak,
This fringe, before I have a stroke
And call this taste.Janine Beacham
We keep ahead of fashion trends
Up here in NW3,
So now that retro is the thing.
We’re as backward as can be,Though authenticity’s not cheap –
You need a bob or two!
It costs a fortune just to source
An avocado loo.But we sit around an open fire
(The central heating’s off),
And over the fireplace hangs a print
By Mr Tretchikoff,Whose splendid Chinese lady
We’ve brought back on the scene.
Though TVs were in black and white,
She’s a fine nostalgic green.Brian Murdoch
To woo Og as his mate, Ug found a cave,
five-chambered, as a spouse back then would crave.
Its bioluminescent ceiling shone
a greenish-blue, and when the bears were gone
(evicted by Ug’s whooping and his spear),
he signalled his new partner the all-clear.
The largest chamber, with its chimney flue
became where Og cooked veg and mammoth stew,
upon a hearth of river-rounded stones,
while Ug carved figurines from ground-sloth bones
to decorate their dwelling. In his den,
he outlined ochre animals and men
upon the walls, depicting daring hunts,
which he recounted to his kids in grunts.
Today, Ug’s cave’s a place of worldwide fame,
preserved since when the last great Ice Age came.Paul A. Freeman
Plaster the ceiling, Gary,
And give it a really good swirl:
Nothing says ‘class’ like some Artex,
And I’m Orpington’s classiest girl.The wallpaper’s got to be woodchip –
Its texture is simply divine.
I know that your mother can’t stand it,
But talk about pearls before swine!Farrow & Ball’s all she uses –
‘Elephant’s Fart’ and the rest –
I can’t see the point of ‘Dead Salmon’
When magnolia’s clearly the best.I’ll carpet the toilet tomorrow
And glue flying ducks to the wall;
Then pop down to Lidl to purchase
A novelty gnome for the hall.Tom Adam
‘Take your time on the open-tread stair,
yes, exquisite in teak – and do be aware
of the burgundy bath: gold taps, and yes, square!
I imagine you noticed the mirrored doors
on the wardrobe, and bathroom tiles the Moors
would be proud of from ceiling to floor,
and this ingenious space with a foldaway door?
Ah, such a convenient kitchen hatch,
yes, glass sliding doors and a magnetic catch.
The fireplace is to die for – the rustic touch
and dear little holes for your treasures and such,
and they kept the shagpile in perfect condition –
so welcoming, such a delightful tradition.
Anaglypta throughout and an end wall in grey.
Will you offer by email? What do you say?’Jane Newberry
Our terraced house, two up, two down,
Was not the smartest house in town
But had, downstairs, snug as the womb,
Its cosy, homely living room,
A small but warm and friendly space,
Dad’s armchair by the fireplace,
A drop-leafed table where we’d eat,
The wireless set, our evening treat,
Green wallpaper embossed with flowers,
A clock that chimed away the hours
And chime the hours it always will
Since, happily, I live here still,
Content with all that meets my eyes
And no desire to modernise
But live a life of laissez-faire
And spend my days in Dad’s armchair.Alan Millard
No. 3379: season’s eatings
In a festive reheating of a previous comp, you are invited to submit a contribution to a collection of Christmas recipes by fictional characters. Please email entries to competition@spectator.co.uk by 2 December. (NB the early deadline is for the Christmas schedule.)
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