Does your coffee table kiss and tell?

Hello everyone – having only been here for just a few days I am absolutely delighted to have accumulated 22 followers already! Yay! Whoever you are, thankyou so very much as you have inspired me to continue to write, and to continue to exercise (just in case any of you are hot/or hotter than me). Well, I think you are all gorgeous (even you, yes you, the rather plain one at the back) x

Speaking of plain … I was watching a TV property programme the other day and a couple of prospective buyers were being shown around a potential new home, a large barn conversion in North Yorkshire.

The exterior of the property was still very traditional and gave not the slightest hint as to what lay inside behind closed doors. Then slowly the rather grand heavy wooden door opened and, hey presto, we were inside.

Wow! Not at all what either they, the potential buyers, or I expected.

It was a vast space, with sparkling white marble floors, crisp white walls and ceilings, and pretty much all the furniture and contents were white too, taking stark minimalism and open plan living to the extreme.

The gorgeous old stone exterior looked perfectly at home in it’s scenic Yorkshire setting but the interior was pure Hollywood mansion.

It was completely bland though. Ok, I accept that the owners had prepared their home for an inspection, together with a film crew, but as I glanced around I realised there were no personal belongings of any kind on show there. No framed photographs. No books. Nothing.

As I absorbed this vast blandness (with the TV on pause at this point) I gradually found my attention drawn to the coffee table nestling in the centre of this huge room. It was made up of two heavy slabs of white marble, one placed vertically at each end to form a base, with a much larger third slab resting on the other two.┬áBut it was what was on it that fascinated me – or rather, what wasn’t. Again … nothing. Nothing at all.

I thought perhaps the property had been vacated already? But no,┬áthe presenter referred to the current owners’ penchant for minimalism and added that even their cat matched their decor – totally white. The poor thing was practically invisible to the naked eye until it ventured outside.


Actually, I’m rather surprised they even had a cat in their sterile environment but perhaps it was there to catch any stray white mice?

Anyway, I digress, it dawned on me that not a single shred of information could be gleaned from this home regarding the occupants – for example:

How many?

Which genders?

Their ages?

Their family?

Their professions?

Their interests?


And yet, to my mind, a persons’ coffee table in particular is usually full of clues. I’ll give you an example.

This is mine:

Chatting on phone with Frank (age 95) 17.12.15

Now, I’m not a detective but I can gather quite a lot of information from this coffee table, although it’s rather difficult to prove my point when this is my own and therefore I know all about me. I would suggest however that it belongs to a more mature person (one old enough to have a black and white mother)? One with a sweet tooth? Someone with a love of travel perhaps (note the Morrocan table, the Asian mini chest of drawers, the French candlesticks). I wonder what it is telling you though?

And, I wonder, are you sitting looking at yours as you read this? What would it tell me, or indeed anyone else, about you if we could see it? And trust me, as an inherently nosy person when it comes to other peoples’ homes, I’d love to see your coffee table!

For this reason I particularly enjoy travelling at night, by car or train, because of the added bonus of getting a good look into peoples’ homes, albeit fleetingly at sixty or so miles an hour (and it’s even more difficult by plane lol).

Well the point I’m trying to make, albeit a little clumsily, is that I personally think it’s good, healthy even, to enjoy your home and to surround yourself with your treasures and things which make you feel comfortable. I think if I were to live in that all white minimalist environment for any period of time it would feel, to me, like a heavily censored and sanitised waiting area, rather than a home.

I wonder what you think?

As for me, I’m off to do my bingo wing exercises, have a (very) quick plank (NOT a euphemism) … and then tidy my coffee table.

Elizabeth x