I appreciate a stylish throw pillow just as much as anyone else. I’m a fan of that cozy shabby chic aesthetic and the allure of open floor plans. We can’t deny the thrill of discussing shiplap, even if I’m still a bit fuzzy on what it actually is. Shiplap, shiplap, SHIPLAP! And who doesn’t enjoy a spectacular before-and-after renovation reveal?
These are merely a few reasons HGTV has captured so many hearts. We love witnessing transformations, the joy of demolishing and reconstructing spaces. We daydream about owning a stunning waterfront property, like those featured on Beachfront Bargain Hunt. We enjoy casting judgment on the high-maintenance homeowners and observing the marital disagreements of the host couples. It’s a guilty pleasure to peek into the lives of strangers through their homes.
But lately, I find myself asking: What is happening over on HGTV? Is this for real? Do people genuinely live in those tiny houses with no closets and fold-down sinks? How can a couple selling camel milk and hemp clothing afford a million-dollar beach home? And why is there so much complaining? Seriously, someone is always grumpy. Whether it’s homeowners upset about their “too cramped” 5,000-square-foot home or developers clashing with contractors, or couples at each other’s throats because living through renos like those on Property Brothers is pure chaos.
What are you even doing, HGTV? You glamorize renovations like they’re a walk in the park when, in reality, they’re far from easy. You throw around terms like “bargain” when you really mean “extremely pricey.” You make flipping a house seem like a fun weekend hobby instead of what it truly involves: debt, a cloud of dust for months, and surviving on ramen noodles.
And now Joanna Gaines—the reigning queen of shabby chic, upcycling, and DIY projects—is selling throw pillows for $90! Seriously? You could spend nearly two Benjamins on a couple of pillows that your kids will toss to the floor or that the dog will use as a scratching post. And an area rug priced at $2,300? Give me a moment to compose myself from the fits of laughter this brings.
My friend Mia mentioned a recent episode of Beachfront Bargain Hunt where a couple was searching for a $350,000 second home in Hawaii. Excuse me? If you can afford a $350,000 second home, you should not be on a show with “bargain” in the title. Let’s be real; the word “bargain” has likely never escaped your lips.
HGTV, it’s time to go home. You’re tipsy.
Remember Trading Spaces? That show where neighbors redecorated each other’s homes for a few hundred dollars? Now that was entertaining! Sure, there were moments of tears and arguments, but it was usually a blast and often provided practical decorating tips. Can we return to that format, please? (Great news—it’s making a comeback!)
Whenever I turn on HGTV, I end up feeling confused (do parents really live in those 300-square-foot tiny homes?), frustrated with the wealthy snobs who are upset their million-dollar mansion lacks a rain shower in the fourth bathroom, or downright depressed about my home situation. Before I started watching, I had never even heard of a “drop zone,” but now I feel I need one for our shoes, coats, and assorted clutter.
In stark contrast to the picture-perfect homes on Property Brothers and the chic decor on Fixer Upper, my family room is more of a chaotic Legos-on-the-floor style. The photos on our walls are crooked, and we have an actual picture of a donkey taped up (the animal kind, not the human variety—don’t ask). Just a few minutes of Rafterhouse makes me question everything about my home, my life choices, and compels me to rush to Home Depot to start DIY-ing fire pits, bar carts, and rustic bookshelves. I want all the chalk paint!
But here’s the truth: I’m not good at decorating, and as I grow older, I care less. My home resembles a mix of clearance finds from Target and Toys “R” Us more than it does a West Elm catalog. And you know what? I don’t give a hoot. I might adore a good throw pillow, but Target has adorable options for just $12. Plus, I can order them without even putting on pants or a bra. And let’s be honest: shiplap is probably more fun to say than to install.
Still, I can’t shake the desire for a drop zone. And a beachfront second home wouldn’t hurt either.
This article was originally published on April 16, 2017.