Sometimes a no-brainer is nice. Like my fit-and-flare navy cotton frock with its matching skinny belt. Or if I’m going to get the fries with my protein-style burger at In-N-Out (one glance through the window at the hypnotic potato-julienning aerobics, and it’s a given).
And even a set of matching bed linens can be just fine. Or NOT.
Maybe it’s the drummer in my head, but I think home decor is a splendid place to twirl out of one’s matchy-matchy comfort zone.
Consider seating for meals, for example. In my generation (no calculations, please) you grew up eating three squares around a sturdy wooden oval, soldiered by its chair clones. Your parents pinched pennies for said solid maple, and for its casual (and I reckon more FABULOUS) cousin—the dinette set—clad in laminate and thigh-grabbing vinyl.
Sets surrounded us. The kitchen. The dining room. All the bedrooms. Bath towels and