I’m one of those people who follows the instructions to the letter. It’s like a form of meditation
I built a desk. OK, fine – I assembled one from the carefully measured and cut pieces of cheap, painted MDF that arrived in a slim but sturdy cardboard box. But you simply cannot convince me I did not fell a mighty teak tree, before carving, lacquering and buffing it into a desk at which I can now sit and ruminate on the larger questions of life, all from a corner of my living room. You can’t.
Blame the countless hours I have poured into viewing home-improvement shows over the years (bless Changing Rooms, my first romance in the field), but there’s nothing I love more than interior design. It is easily the thing I am most interested in without having a single thing to qualify me. For years, my sister and I assembled shelves, bookcases, shoe racks and entertainment centres as a necessary hobby (we couldn’t afford one-off or even mildly expensive pre-assembled furniture) and that slowly evolved into flatpack love.
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