Is my home a WOMAN REPELLER?
Last month we challenged an interiors therapist to make a single woman’s flat more attractive to men. Now lovelorn COSMO LANDESMAN asks her ...
Afew weeks ago my colleague Liz Hoggard told Inspire readers how she was paid a visit by an ‘interiors therapist’ who believes changing our homes can help us make major changes in our lives.
Hilariously, the therapist, Suzanne Roynon, didn’t pull any punches in her assessment of Liz’s interior, with its ‘ too spiky’ cactus and shelves of ‘depressing’ books.
Suzanne’s recommendations that tweaking her surroundings could help Liz be more flirtatious were followed by a storm of discussion across the media.
Amid the frenzy, one unassailable point emerged: never mind a manrepelling flat, had anyone seen the squalor in which some men attempt to woo women?
females across the nation shared horror stories of masculine clutter; homes where the bed is a mattress on the floor, the sole decorative flourish a pair of dumbbells gathering dust.
It seemed a wonder, with such obstacles to seduction, that the human race had managed to continue.
But I was intrigued. At 64, I’ve been divorced twice and had numerous relationships of various lengths and degrees of disaster. I haven’t had a serious romantic relationship for two long and lonely years. Something is clearly going wrong.
Over the years I’ve tried all sorts of therapy: freudian, Jungian, Gestalt, Anger Management, Sex and Love Addiction — and none has really worked. Could the problem lie closer to home — and could an ‘interiors therapist’ finally sort me out?
Suzanne’s approach feels like a mix of feng shui, Marie Kondo-style decluttering, pop psychology, life-coaching and a dash of common sense.
It’s based on the idea that what you have in your home — and where you have it — will determine the quality of your life. Put simply: free up your living space and you free up your life.
When Suzanne arrives, she hasn’t been in my hallway for two minutes when she declares: ‘This place feels very unloved. Look at that poor, overburdened coat stand!’
OK, I have about every coat I’ve owned over the past ten years hanging from it. Plus various ties, bits of gym wear and numerous abandoned coat hangers.
‘Are you saying that my hallway is offputting to women?’ I ask.
‘Definitely! If I was a date you’d brought home and I wanted to hang up my coat, there’s nowhere for it. I would have had to leave it on the bannister, which, by the way, is very dusty. You need to have room for that new energy to come in when you bring someone back.’
from my ‘ unloved’ hallway we move into my ‘unlovable’ bathroom.
I know from experience that women judge a man not by the content of his character, but the content of his bathroom and its cleanliness. So, before Suzanne arrived, I gave the place a good scrub.
She walks in, raises an eyebrow and lowers the loo seat. ‘You need to keep the good energy here. If you leave the lid open, then good energy can escape down the toilet.’
She also tells me there are too many toiletries on display (it’s not my fault I have six bottles of David Beckham body deodorant!) and too many books.
I thought they showed what an intelligent and cultured man I am. no, says Suzanne: ‘It shows that you spend a lot of time in the loo and have problems with your digestion.’ even I can see that’s not
hugely sexy. next up is my bedroom. I knew this would be a tricky one for Suzanne because it’s full of books, and she got a lot of criticism on the internet for warning Liz that too many books in her bedroom would put off men. would she issue the same warning to me about women?
‘I’m not saying you should get rid of all your books,’ she says. ‘But do you need so many in your bedroom? And look at these titles: I Love Dick, Kill ’em All and A History Of The Penis.’
I try to explain to Suzanne that two of those books are critically acclaimed novels and one is for research, but she isn’t persuaded.
‘Your bedroom is saying a lot about where you are right now, and it’s saying: “I’m a very unloved single chap.” ’
But according to Suzanne, what women will find most off-putting about my flat isn’t my books; it’s my art collection.
She finds it perplexing and keeps asking me questions like, ‘why do you have a painting of dung beetles?’ and ‘why is there a painting of a huge fly by an old girlfriend of yours?’
I try and explain to Suzanne that it’s there because it’s a beautiful painting by a talented artist who just happens to be an ex. what’s wrong with that?
Suzanne says: ‘ no new woman in your life wants to come out of your bedroom in the morning and be confronted with a painting by an ex. My advice is, take it down.’
In my bedroom she finds a painting by a friend of mine of a man’s head made from pornographic images in the style of the 16th- century Italian painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo, famous for using fruit and meats to make up the faces in his art. ‘ It’s not pornographic,’ I insist, ‘ it’s actually anti-pornographic. Look at the sadness in the man’s eyes.’ Suzanne shakes her head. ‘why is this sad man in your bedroom? Could it be because there is a sad man sleeping there?’ She points at my bed.
‘That picture would screw with the mind of any woman who woke up in the morning and saw that.’
‘OK,’ I say, a little testily, ‘what sort of pictures should I have? Sunsets and doves? unicorns flying over rainbows?’
‘no. You should have things on your wall that make you feel great. when you come here with a partner you want to feel fantastic.’
Perhaps Suzanne has a point. But when she starts with the feng shui stuff about different parts of a room representing love, family, relationships and so on, she loses me a little.
In my living room, she points to a corner by the door and says: ‘Here’s your love and relationship section. To improve your romantic chances, you could put some red flowers for passion in it.’ what else would make my living room more female-friendly?
‘well, we can start with your pig.’ Suzanne points to an old wooden rocking pig I’d inherited from my parents. ‘Do you love the pig?’ ‘no’ I confess. ‘Do you use the pig?’ ‘not really.’ ‘So why is it here? It’s a single pig. A lonely pig.’
The single lampstand, missing its pair, speaks volumes, too, apparently.
Then Suzanne starts in on my record deck and collection of vinyl records (‘Do you actually use that thing? Can’t you get rid of it, and those records?’)
Here, I have to put my foot down. You can diss a man’s wooden pig, but not his record player and records — those are sacred!
The most off-putting feature of my sitting room, according to Suzanne, are the photos of family, friends and old girlfriends displayed in what is known in feng shui as the Helpful friends section — the right-hand corner of the room, by the door.
‘You should put those away,’ orders Suzanne. ‘ why would a new woman in your life want to see photos of your exes? It shows that, subconsciously, you are still thinking about them.’
Suzanne talks a lot of sense. Like when she tells me: ‘ The reason you are single and 64 and doing the things you do is because all your books and art and pictures . . . they’re holding you in the past.’
She’s right. These things are all like props that keep me playing the same role in the same play that is my life. To allow for a new storyline to emerge — one involving someone else — I have to change the setting.
Since Suzanne’s visit, I’m like some mad Stepford housewife, forever cleaning, changing around furniture and taking bags of books and DVDs to the charity shop.
Of course, there’s no guarantee that making these changes in my home — and, more importantly, in my head — will lead to love. But one thing is for certain. My flat is no longer a woman-repeller, and I haven’t been so happy in ages.
And now I must dash off to sort out my poor coat stand.