lair of disrepair

I promised my bloglings a room tour, and a room tour they shall have. My space is currently overloaded with brights, the better to guard against seasonal blech. As it happens, funnily enough, my affinity for gothic decor grows more pronounced in the summer, when I’ve already got a natural source of light. It’s an ebb and flow. I’d rather have eccentricity than out-and-out darkness, anyway.

And lest I ignore the undertone of class snobbery that “room tour” posts often exhibit, let me say that 90%+ of my collectibles are thrifted or scrounged. I rarely pay more than $20 for any given item. If I can engineer myself a flapper den as a barely-writer who didn’t finish college, then it’s easier, I’d wager, than many people think.

Pictured: current reading material (a book of essays by and for pagans) and my laundry bag. Also, a walrus.