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192
The House in Good Taste
·
Elsie De Wolfe
14
Too
often,
here
in
America,
the
most
comfortable
room
in
the
house
is
given
up
to
a
sort
of
bastard
collection
of
gilt
chairs
and
tables,
over-elaborate
draperies
shutting
out
both
light
and
air,
and
huge
and
frightful
paintings.
This
style
of
room,
with
its
museum-like
furnishings,
has
been
dubbed
"Marie
Antoinette,"
why,
no
one
but
the
American
decorator
can
say.
Heaven
knows
poor
Marie
Antoinette
had
enough
follies
to
atone
for,
but
certainly
she
has
never
been
treated
more
shabbily
than
when
they
dub
these
mausoleums
"Marie
Antoinette
rooms."
I
remember
taking
a
clever
Englishwoman
of
much
taste
to
see
a
woman
who
was
very
proud
of
her
new
house.
We
had
seen
most
of
the
house
when
the
hostess,
who
had
evidently
reserved
what
she
considered
the
best
for
the
last,
threw
open
the
doors
of
a
large
and
gorgeous
apartment
and
said,
"This
is
my
Louis
XVI
ballroom."
My
friend,
who
had
been
very
patient
up
to
that
moment,
said
very
quietly,
"What
makes
you
think
so?"
Louis
XVI
thought
a
salon
well
furnished
with
a
few
fine
chairs
and
a
table.
He
wished
to
be
of
supreme
importance.
In
the
immense
salons
of
the
Italian
palaces
there
were
a
few
benches
and
chairs.
People
then
wished
spaces
about
them.
Nowadays,
people
are
swamped
by
their
furniture.
Too
many
centuries,
too
many
races,
crowd
one
another
in
a
small
room.
The
owner
seems
insignificant
among
his
collections
of
historical
furniture.
Whether
he
collects
all
sorts
of
things
of
all
periods
in
one
heterogeneous
mass,
or
whether
he
fills
his
house
with
the
furniture
of
some
one
epoch,
he
is
not
at
home
in
his
surroundings.
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