A hot, kitschy, kooky mess

I’ve always been on the fence with my feelings about Agyness Deyn. Her almost-symmetrical face has earned her great envy amongst the model wannabes, but her peroxide-blond pixie haircut has sparked an enormous following which has, for the most part, been a complete and utter failure, and her personal edgy style has also set off a trend which has thus far only worked on Agyness Deyn herself. But it appears that the one thing about her of which I have an absolute and unswerving opinion is her house.

Getting a sneak peek inside a high profile person’s home normally leaves one feeling mixed emotions of jealousy that you don’t live there and inspiration to transform their own humble abode. We marvel at their impeccable taste and all the things that they (or their interior designer) have selected from obscure flea markets in exotic locales and high-end furniture stores. However, Agyness’s apartment – recently listed on the market for $2.5 million – in the hipster neighborhood of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, New York, has left many clutching at straws over whether to love it or hate it.

I, for one, love it. And I may be the only one.

Restraint has never really been Agyness’s thing, so it’s only logical that her natural habitat is a bit bizarre. The Under the Sea-themed bedroom with conch shell chairs and a coral-and-seaweed wall mural, a Salvador Dali-inspired bedroom with sleigh bed and gilded mirrors, and a bathroom with a brown marble bath tub, lion’s head tap and mirrored tiles. And even though each of the items, on their own, would make her appear as a klepto who had somehow managed to burgle the Museo del Prado and scour the vintage stores in Greenwich Village all at the same time, they actually work when all thrown together. The main living area is proof of this, with a floral wallpaper, leopard-print carpet, enough chintz and flea market ecclectica to make you dizzy, hessian drapes and a hot air balloon chandelier.

Certain elements of Deyn’s apartment make it feel like it could belong to a cigar-smoking, balding and slightly rotund man with gold chains rather than a girl who looks like… well, her. But I take my hat off to her, going on the same principle by which I took my hat off to Kate Moss for her wedding dress. So ugly, it’s pretty; so grotesque, it’s chic; so good for a party but not for a hangover.

That said, I would probably spend the whole time panicking that I might knock over what I think is an ashtray, only to be told that it was a knee-guard from the armor of a Ming Dynasty soldier and will cost $16 million to replace.

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