Warped Childhood, Restoration Hardware Style: VOLUME III

Another season has passed and I realized that it was high time for me to check in once again on the good men and women of Restoration Hardware.

A quick look through one of Restoration Hardware’s telephone book-sized catalogs makes it clear that their designers and stylists clearly have one well-manicured finger placed firmly on the pulse of the average American citizen, and nowhere is this more evident than in the pages of Restoration Hardware Baby and Child.

See for yourselves what the typical Restoration Hardware family is up to:

When Peony told her friends that her dearest wish was for little Ochre to grow up in a world that was colorblind, they had no idea she’d meant it quite literally.

 

Quixote didn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he’d always considered himself to be more of a cat man.

 

“But why can’t I have a real bed, Mummy?” Francesca pouted.  “All the other girls have one!”

“Because a real bed would completely spoil your room’s aesthetic,” Aerie replied. “Suck it up, darling.”

 

Millbrook fondly remembered the private cabin his parents rented and furnished for him each year at sleepaway camp. “Mum made absolutely sure I’d never have to sleep amongst filthy strangers on a creaky metal bunkbed,” he reminisced.

 

In order to ensure that baby Élysée got the best possible academic head start, Prudence skipped board books altogether and instead spent hours reading aloud child-friendly classics like The Brothers Karamazov.

 

“My pediatrician warned against having blankets and pillows in Emma’s crib,” Weesie confided to her friends. “But these looked so fabulous on my nursery vision board that I decided to just take my chances!”

 

Butterworth never forgot the day he accidentally left his Converse sneakers on the floor and was locked in his mother’s (admittedly spacious) closet for eight hours as punishment.

 

“My dear, are you sure that simply leaning this mirror against the nursery wall is safe?” Lois gasped.  Phaedra glowered at her interfering mother-in-law. It was high time for her bi-annual grandchild visits to be severely reduced.

 

“When I grow up,” Cassowary wrote in her diary, “I shall wear red. Bright red. Every. Damn. Day.”

 

Although Fredericka’s decision to add “No garish or tacky plastic toys, please” to her baby shower invitations was controversial, she smugly congratulated herself on the end result.

 

“I’ve done the best I could with this dorm room,” Devyn told a high school friend over the phone, “but it’s still a hovel, any way you cut it.”

 

Ferne learned the hard way why floor lamps are rarely used in baby nurseries. A year later, she and her husband are still paying off Milo Jr.’s hospital bills.

 

“Awww, Mom, you took down my hockey posters for this?” Tarkington moaned. “Putney? Marlyebone? Kew Green? What does that even mean?”

Carlotta glared at her son. “It means that you are sophisticated and have good taste,” she said. “Although frankly, I’ve begun to suspect otherwise.”

 

Sugie and Anna Claire fought to hide their laughter until they’d left Amelia’s home. “Did you SEE those wire stars in Marlowe’s nursery?” Anna Claire snickered. “You can TOTALLY tell Amelia made them herself!”

“She’ll probably pinterest them onto her pin board or whatever!” Sugie giggled.

 

If Liesl had known that little Sophia would be so bent on finger painting with her own poo, she would’ve chosen an entirely different color palette.

And daughter.

 

“I like to call it Geek Chic,” Juditha snorted as she showed her friends how she’d decorated her teenage son’s room.

At his desk in the corner, 17-year-old Ludlow wasn’t laughing.

 

Tarragon was an adult before she realized that butcher’s string was not what most parents gave their children for Christmas.

 

“I don’t believe for a second Mamie’s claims that Hasting’s nursery came from Restoration Hardware,”  Mary Alice whispered spitefully. “I mean did you see all that color? It just screams TARGET!”

 

“What do you mean Delfina’s room isn’t exactly kid-friendly?” Harlow fumed at her sister. “What do you think the blooming bunny is for?!”

 

Each morning, Dorothy stared wistfully at the silhouettes of previous children the Von Derpishires had auditioned from the orphanage and prayed she’d be the one they deemed ‘suitable.’

I’m sure you can all relate to a Restoration Hardware-style childhood…. right?

Right?

Like this post? Check out Volumes ONE and TWO!

And you’ll probably also like my Pinterest board: Mary Eugenia de Von Romneybilt Cavenbottom’s Idea Book.

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All images via RHBabyandChild.com