Trading Spaces is an ideal television program to watch while ironing: see the beginning and the ending while getting and hanging your clothes during the middle. I cannot tell the names of the designers one from the other, but they are all bad, especially the seldom-on woman who wears the silly hats. The finished rooms are candle-lighted; this is impractical and dangerous. Who today has flaming candles on wall sconces and chandeliers? And those home-made couches and narrow benches for sitting -- what are those? What's with the painted floors, the balsa wood boxes they call armoires, the scribbles that are deemed Matisse, the foam and fabric deemed upholstery, the material STAPLED to wooden slats for drapes (How are they to be laundered?), the walls painted black, purple or chocolate, and everything else spray-painted? Then they surprise the viewer and the homeowner by glueing moss or straw or other stuff onto the walls! Recall the rusted wall? Ooh, aah, orchids!! Wow! They'll never last. Why do I watch? Ironing is no fun.
Review of Trading Spaces
