I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
February 16, 2016
Y’all. The geniuses at Restoration Hardware have done it again. Not content to raise the bar on color-free decor for financially gifted adults and their creatively named progeny alone, RH now has a line aimed squarely at everyone’s favorite human beings:
RH Teen is a wonderland of excess designed especially for teens who are accustomed to the finer things in life– Enter with me now into their world and bask in the knowledge that these children are our future.
“My New Year’s resolution is to spend less time thinking about myself…” Swann vowed, “…and more time thinking about my selfies!“
“It’s Ken now,” Kennebunkport replied testily. “How many times do I have to remind you, Zeaux Weigh? Just. Plain. Ken.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Sommelier beamed. “I think it might be the best President’s Day gift Daddy’s ever gotten me.”
“Thoreau was uncomfortable studying at his desk, so we bought him an orbit chair,” Goldfinch confided to her hairdresser. “Because when it comes right down to it, two thousand dollars is a small price to pay for academic success.”
“Extraordinary teenagers need extraordinary surroundings,” Clique murmured approvingly.
Dolce could only get through two episodes of Making a Murderer before removing it from her Watch List. “I mean, this all happened in Wisconsin,” she muttered to herself. “Who cares about some murder in Canada?“
“Sydney is our little rebel, and I think her room reflects her individuality,” Apriva asserted. “She’s still not speaking to me, though, because I refused to have her pillows monogrammed with ‘Syd Vicious.’
“My parents told me I needed to get a real job,” Honorarium said, “so now I’m seriously thinking of becoming a YouTuber.”
“Dude, that is such a good idea,” Cymbalta nodded encouragingly. “Then you’ll be, like, all independent and shit.”
“We really wanted to make a statement against excess,” Sorrow told the Architectural Digest writer, “which is precisely why Granite’s room has an almost Spartan feel to it. These rustic wooden planks and steel pipes, for example, support our strong belief that one absolutely can find a perfectly good clothing rack for under a thousand dollars… not counting shipping and sales tax, of course.”
“I’m writing a song to bring more awareness to the poverty that’s all around us,” De Niro told his parents earnestly, “but I’m stuck on the third verse. Can you think of anything at all that rhymes with ‘coupons?'”
After receiving a new Lexus for her birthday instead of the Mercedes Cabriolet she’d specifically requested, Clover spent the next three days locked in her room, reading Sylvia Plath and journaling about her feelings of loss and despair.
“Isn’t it difficult for Agaemmon to use his bicycle when it’s tacked up to the wall like that?” Mary Winston wondered.
“Darling, Agaemmon isn’t allowed to actually ride that thing,” Bunny chided. “We can’t chance him injuring himself and losing his lacrosse scholarship to Rhodes.”
Apnea often daydreamed about a world where peace prevailed, clean water was accessible to all, and women could eat as many cronuts as they wanted and still remain a size 00.
“Factor in the cost of having that ridiculous Peeping Tom charge from our neighbors expunged from his record and I’d say photography is the most expensive hobby our son’s ever had,” Paxil’s mother chuckled.
“Boys will be boys,” his father agreed with a wry grin.
“Your mouth keeps moving,” VannStephen laughed, “but all I see is Zack from Saved By the Bell.”
“All good things are wild and free,” Marrow read when they got to Splendid’s room, “Except for, like, everything in this house!”
“That decal is meant to be ironic,” Splendid said, rolling her eyes at Marrow wearily. “Duh.”
“I simply adore your kids’ study nook,” Puffin enthused, “but what on earth does I-D-K stand for?”
“I don’t know,” Keebler replied.
“Really, Keebler?” Puffin pouted. “We’ve been friends since our Kappa Kappa Gamma days and you won’t even tell me what I-D-K stands for?”
Although living in France for a year as an exchange student wasn’t easy, Thistle typed, I learned some important life lessons there, like how to order off a French menu and use the Metro to get to the Louvre. She sat back and reread her final sentence appreciatively. This college admissions essay on overcoming personal hardship was going to kick some serious derriere.
“What are these things called again?” Dystopia asked.
“Magazines,” Bleak replied. “My mom says girls used to read them to find out about fashion before there was Instagram.”
“That’s harsh,” Dystopia muttered. “I mean, by the time it even got to your house, everything in it would be totally last week.”
After receiving a rejection letter from Princeton, Dross spent an entire summer writing brooding poetry about the experience. In September, he self-published the collection in a slim volume titled, I’m Fucked, which went on to win a $20 prize from Literary Latte magazine.
“What Charlatan wants, Charlatan gets,” her father said proudly, showing his guests the practice space recently added to the house for his daughter’s garage band, The Have Nots.
“And if the whole band thing doesn’t pan out, I’ll have room for three more cars,” he added before pressing a button to close the garage door. “It’s a win-win.”
“I don’t know why there’s such a fuss about kids wanting to do nothing but stare at their tablets and iPhones,” Absolut told her friends. “To my mind, it’s the best thing that ever happened. I mean, can you imagine if we had to find space for children’s stereos and toys and TVs and CD collections and books like our parents did? No wonder our childhood rooms were just a hodgepodge of clutter. I don’t even know how my poor mother coped.”
All images from RH Teen. Obvs.