Baby thought carefully about Herman's birthday. "He needs a new bedroom look," he pronounced.
"Soothing grays. Cool blues. Rococo, with a French Country twist. And Hollywood overdose, the room must scream 'quaaludes'."
To build his sanctuary, Baby crafted a dark gray floor liner to break up the five-foot tall bed. He then stuffed the comforter inside a slip of mixed gray hues -- or grey, which he insists is more continental. Inside the duvet he stretched dark sheets of 100 linen, providing a pleasant texture to tired Herman legs.
"Herman only turns 34 once," he said. "This bedroom is a muted, hushed sacred space which doubles as a meditation chamber and sometimes-panic room. Enjoy."
"The idea is to calm a Herman after a long
day's work, so I can read about Downton Abbey in goddamn peace," he mused.
After mounting a bronze mirror on the far wall, he gazed across the room
at a black owl candle holder, placed on the desk to inspire wise journaling.