Tag: curtains

Guest Post: 7 Reasons I’m Going To Buy Window Blinds As A Christmas Gift For A Stranger

If you can remember as far back as March, you may recall Ewan MacDougal advocating the art of building a fortress from furniture. Well, we are pleased to say he’s back. And this time he’s got Christmas on his mind.

Window blinds as a Christmas gift for a stranger? “Well that’s a little odd!” I’m sure you’re thinking. Window blinds are generally something one buys for themselves. Choosing window blinds is a big task that can change the whole feel of a room. It would be presumptuous for me to think I could choose how someone else’s’ room must look. “Maybe,” I imagine you suggest. “Maybe choosing window blinds for a loved one could work.” And certainly I agree it would make more sense if I told you I was buying window blinds for, say, my Grandmother – whose tastes I’m likely to know well, especially if she had been hinting she wanted window blinds and knew I had worked with a window blinds company for my job. However, Grandma will have to wait, because this Christmas I’m buying window blinds for a (near) stranger.

It is not that I am a blind fanatic who hopes he can create a little piece of Christmas magic by having blinds delivered to a random strangers’ home. It’s actually far more self serving than that. It has been said on occasion, that I am perhaps at times a little socially awkward. (Shocking I know.) This was proved to me the other day at a party when, whilst trying to make friends with a stranger, I may have accidently given the impression I could be a stalker. I assure you I am not a stalker!

It’s okay, though, I have a cunning plan, window blinds will save my reputation and potential friendship, and here are seven reasons why.

1. Proof That I’m Gainfully Employed. I have a job, like a proper one with an office, day time hours, email address, phone number, a monthly wage, the works. All these very normal things. I’m sure the random stranger I may have seemed like a stalker to, has in mind a stereotypical stalker. I imagine this stereotype of a stalker is quite a weird individual. Who does not get on with people and does not keep regular hours. A stalker fitting this stereotype would probably struggle to get or hold down a regular office job such as mine. Thus by making it known that I have a job I will surely seem less stalker like. How will blinds help? Well one of my clients at the moment just happens to be a leading window blind manufacturer. I’ll be sure to mention the work connection on any gift tag, making my normalness apparent.

2. Window Blinds Create Privacy. This reason is surely an obvious one, but in case some didn’t share quite the same train of thought as I did… Stalkers are notorious for staring through the windows of their victims. Watching all their movements, keeping track of every happening in their life. If someone was to use blinds this would become much more challenging. So, unless I was a stalker particularly looking for a challenge, it would be completely counterproductive to give someone blinds. Thus, the stranger I met at this party will only be able to conclude that I am not a stalker.

3. Sending Window Blinds Is Actually Less Creepy Than Explaining The Situation. So the ‘sensible’ among you may be thinking, “Surely this mistaken stalker conundrum is all just a miss understanding that could be sorted out by explaining.”. Well.. maybe. However, the only means of contact I have for my possibly alleged victim soon to be friend, is a postal address. This is what got me into the whole mess in the first place. After the party I was calling a taxi for myself, and being the generous non-stalker that I am I called one for her as well (hence having an address) and at the time I joked that now I had her address I could send her a postcard. I’m no comedy genius, but even I can tell that offering to send someone a postcard isn’t a particularly funny joke. In fact, in all honesty, I don’t know if it can be deemed a joke at all. So how could I save myself as being remembered as that guy who tells non-funny jokes? Well, I could only think of one way. Pretend it was never a joke at all and actually send her a postcard.

So, that’s what I did. The next day I bought a postcard, drew a nice scene of seals on the back (why seals? Why not?), wrote on her address, a return address and a shiny first class stamp and popped it in the post.

It’s been four days now and still no response.. the more I think about it, sending a hand drawn seal scene to someone you hardly know might be a little weird.. perhaps stalkerish? It was a party, there was drinking. Does she remember I have her address? How will she think I got it? What if she thinks I found it from somewhere else? Is finding home addresses of strangers stalkerish? Yes.

So, if my fears are founded, and I have been deemed a weird stalker by sending a postcard, is sending another really the best option? Fixing a mistake by doing the exact same thing again, has been proven (I’m thinking the Brand/Ross vs Andrew Sachs thing) to be a bad idea!

No, the only option is a completely different gesture. Sending window blinds to her home address instead.

4. Drawing Another Picture Would Make Things Worse Still. Before I completely ruled out writing to her again, I did consider creating a second drawing. This drawing would be entitled ‘proof I’m not a stalker’ and feature a sketch of the bushes I saw outside her house on Google street view – it would be clear I’m not hiding in them. The picture would also feature a dustbin being raided for food by foxes – and therefore confirm it was not being raided by me looking for whatever it is stalkers steal from bins. Finally, it would include a sketch of the shelf in my bedroom – which currently has books on it and not a creepy shrine dedicated to her. So that’s what I was going to draw.

However, I do all my drawings from life, and I feel the amount of time I’d have to secretly sit outside her house to capture the bins and bushes really might not help my case. So really we’re back to the window blinds.

5. It’s A Good Value Gift With 50% Off Selected Blinds. The window blind shop I’m looking at currently has 50% off most products. I know I shouldn’t be cheap about saving my own reputation, but there’s no harm in looking for good value.

6. Christmas Is A Magical Time Of Year. By making the blinds a Christmas gift the recipient will get them at the most magical time of year. It’s surely much harder to be mad at someone and worry that they might be a stalker when you’re filled with Christmas cheer. Plus, Christmas is a time when you have lots of guests. So what better time to spruce up your living room with some new blinds?! She’ll only be able to think good things about me after this Christmas gift.

7. A Personal Gift Will Say I’m Thoughtful Not Creepy. Blinds are a really personal gift, which takes a lot of effort to give. Think about it, I’m going to have to break into her house to measure the windows to make sure the blinds fit. Then I’m going to have to go through all of her stuff to get familiar with her tastes and make sure I choose blinds she’ll really like. Roller blinds or Venetian blinds? I’m going to have to track down the homes of all her friends and family to make sure none of them have blinds that look too similar. It’s really going to be a lot of hard work to make sure the gift is perfect. How could she possibly be mad or scared by me once she knows how much work I’ve gone to in order to get her this perfect and special Christmas gift? I mean, if someone broke into my house, rummaged through all my things, started snooping around the homes of all my friends and family, I know that I’d feel… uh… oh wait… maybe not then.

December 2, 2011
7 Reasons Blackout Blinds Are Surprisingly Effective

My wife and I are trying to train our child to recognise the difference between day and night at the moment and the latest weapon in our armoury is a blackout blind: a blind which prevents any light coming through the window. This, we not unreasonably thought, would prevent our six-week old son waking up at 5am when sunlight streams through our East facing bedroom window and would help him get into a settled routine of sleeping at night. So far, it has proved effective (after a fashion).

1. Fitting. As the member of the 7 Reasons team that is competent at DIY I envisaged that there would be no problems installing our blind, and I was almost correct. It was incredibly simple to fit, with only a bit of light drilling required. And it was simple right up until the moment – while I was balanced precariously atop a step-ladder – that everything went dark. Not just dim, you should understand, but dark. Preternaturally dark. Darker than spending a dark night in the darkest room of the Prince of Darkness wearing a sleeping mask. Darker than anything ever. There was no light. “Help!” “Help!” I called until my wife came up the stairs and opened the door, flooding the room with light from the hallway. “It all went dark”, I explained to a sceptical wife who couldn’t comprehend – or didn’t believe – that something as insubstantial as a piece of material could block out all light. I climbed down from the ladder with my reputation for DIY prowess, if not my dignity, intact.

2. Baby’s Bedtime. In the evening our son fell asleep before we expected him to and, rather than look a gift horse (or a sleeping baby, which is a very similar creature to a gift horse) in the mouth, we decided we would put him to bed right then. We gingerly carried him up the stairs and swaddled him in his cot. We began to sneak out of the room and paused to close the blind on the way. Everything went black. We couldn’t see a thing. We partially raised the blind again so that we could find the light switch and turned on the light so that we could see the door and find our way out. This woke the baby. Bugger.

3. Mummy’s Bedtime. Eventually, we were able to get our son back to sleep and, quite soon after, my wife snuck up to bed. I have little idea what happened, but after a couple of minutes, from my position in the room below, I heard a loud bang, followed about thirty seconds later by the noise of the baby crying. Then I heard the sound of my wife trying to placate the crying baby with a cuddly toy, before my parental selective deafness kicked in and I returned to what I was doing.

4. Daddy’s Bedtime. Eventually, the baby became quiet again and, having spent the remainder of a fascinating evening reconfiguring the 7 Reasons W3 Total Cache plugin and our email servers*, it was time for me to go to bed. I went up the stairs and changed in another room, so as not to disturb anyone. Then I snuck across the landing into the bedroom and closed the door noiselessly behind me. Where once there would have had been some residual light filtering through the blind to aid my navigation across the room, now there was none. I knew roughly where the bed was though, and I took several tentative steps toward it before stumbling over something and letting out an involuntary scream as I lost my balance and landed in a heap on the bed.

5. “AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Shrieked a lump in the bed from beneath me as, in the pitch darkness, a screaming and unknown assailant pounced on her. I groped around for the switch to the bedside light and, finding it quickly, turned it on. I looked behind me to see what was on the floor. “Are you drunk?”, the now slightly calmer lump in the bed enquired. “I fell over an owl,” I replied.

6. “WWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!” Said a tiny voice from the other side of the room reacting to the sudden light. Eventually we were able to get him back to sleep.

7. Sleep. I was unaware of what occurred during the remainder of the night. I have since been told that the usual cycle of the baby waking up and requiring feeding and changing carried on unaltered by the loss of the light. I was told that this morning when, after what I can only describe as the most blissfully tranquil sleep of my life, my rather tired looking wife shook me awake and informed me it was 11am and that we were going to be late for our lunch appointment. “But it can’t be”, I replied, “It’s still pitch black”.

So there you have it. Blackout blinds do work, and you can use them to lull the unsuspecting into sleeping longer and later. They just don’t work on babies.

*I had hoped to watch a couple of episodes of Bergerac. We sacrifice a lot for 7 Reasons.

May 11, 2011
7 Reasons To Do Away With Curtains

1. Full Disclosure. All manner of weird and shameful things happen behind curtains: Line dancing; Nazism; geriatric transvestism; the viewing of ITV; this. All of those things are probably occurring on your street right now. If we did away with curtains we’d be forced to behave ourselves, which would be no bad thing.

2. Changing Rooms. Curtains in the changing rooms of clothes shops are a bad idea. It’s an oft quoted statistic that every year four people die in the UK while putting their trousers on. I haven’t died while dressing, but I’ve had a couple of trouser-hopping incidents myself – at home, fortunately. If this hasn’t happened to you, here’s how it works: You’re putting your trousers on, usually you’ve got one leg in, they’re at ankle height and you’re about to put your second leg in when you overbalance and start to fall sideways. Once you start falling sideways with one leg in your trousers, self preservation kicks-in and you instinctively hop in the direction that you are falling, to arrest your fall. But you are so overbalanced – and instinct keeps you hopping – that the only thing that will stop your sideways progress is a solid object (there’s no chance that you can stop by yourself). But curtains are not solid. This means that if a trouser-hopping incident occurred in a changing room, you might find yourself hopping right out of it. Who knows where you could end up? The changing room opposite? The men’s jeans section? Boots? Wherever you ended up, you’d probably feel a bit foolish. Perhaps people would point.

3. It’s Curtains. In films, you often hear the phrase “It’s curtains for you”. This is bad. Curtains = Death. Death = Bad ∴ Bad = Curtains*.

4. The World. In the opening monologue of Shakespeare’s As You Like It, Jaques declares that, “All the world’s a stage…”. If this is true, then according to the Home Office Manual of Safety Requirements in Theatres and Other Places of Public Entertainment (1934), all the world requires a curtain. An enormous curtain would block out the sun and would be prohibitively expensive. Not to mention difficult to wash.

5. The Kitchen. I don’t understand why people have curtains in their kitchens. They appear to be utterly without purpose, like the frosted glass windows in aeroplane toilets or the bins in Scarborough. I wonder if there’s something I’m missing. It’s the wrong room for sex. Are people being more secretive about family recipes than I am? What are they doing in there?**

6. Venetian Blinds. There’s a better technology available for obscuring windows; Venetian blinds. They’re more technologically advanced. They don’t require washing. They block out the light more effectively. Okay, so you can get your head stuck in them but, minor indignities aside, they’re so much better than curtains.

7. The Dream. I used to have a recurring dream when I lived in a shared house. In the dream I would walk downstairs in the morning and open the dining room curtains (the dining room overlooked the enclosed back garden). When I opened the curtains I would see, standing there motionless, staring straight back at me, Pierluigi Collina. Then I would wake up, usually in a cold sweat. I haven’t lived in a house with curtains since. It looked pretty much like this, in case you were wondering.

*Maths = A doddle.

** Do you have kitchen curtains? Do you get up to stuff behind them? Please let us know what you do via the comments section (anonymously if necessary).

April 23, 2010