I am writing a post defending pleated lampshades while TV news runs in the background. I need a distraction, and maybe you do, too. Who knows what we will need by the time this post publishes.
My friend tried to sway me away from pleated shades gently.
I trust your judgment but I’ll politely caution you to mind the fine line between aesthetic and dentist’s office circa 1997. Or 1987. Or 1977. Really 1977, but still displayed in the waiting room in 1997.E., the Doubter
I acknowledge pleated shades are a look, and one I grew up disliking because my mother loved it, but I can no longer deny their appeal.
Pleated shades are both fussy and unfussy, and that is part of what endears them to me. For all their rigid order–pleat, pleat, pleat–the shade almost always tilts at an odd angle. Pleated shades are most appreciated after you accept shades sit wonkily and perfectionism may look good in his shiny shoes, but he’s a bit of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties.
Behold the room of someone invited to pool parties.
She brings the best homemade desserts, and piles her platters of cookies so high, she could not style them with sprigs of thyme and curls of lemon peel even if she wanted to.
Pleated lampshades are a mix of high maintenance and low effort I can relate to right now. It is the decor choice of one who understands where they fit in the puzzle and knows to stand back up no matter how many times they get knocked down–or sideways.
After reading this post, you will see pleated lampshades at every turn. Be ready. They are coming for you, and they have no problem tracking wet footprints on your clean floor. It is a pool party, after all.
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