Between birthday party pickups, Husband and I popped into our favourite used bookstore this weekend, walking out with full arms and empty wallets. The store is literally crammed floor to ceiling and floor to floor with untamed stacks of fascinating, and often very unique, books. I fantasize about one day walking in and asking Mr. Berridge, the owner, “What is your price, my good man, if we buy the whole lot?” Fortunately, financial constraints moderate my covetousness.
Husband out-consumed me, but I walked away with three volumes to add to my overflowing list of must-reads: Jane Jacobs’ The Death and Life of Great American Cities; House as a Mirror of Self by Clare Cooper Marcus; and a fat, amusing-looking hardcover with an eighties sensibility called Home-Psych: The Social Psychology of Home and Decoration by Joan Kron.
Turns out that it isn’t wise to judge Joan Kron’s book by its dust jacket. It is full of well-researched and curious information about the relationship of people to their houses, not to mention fifty pages of notes that connect me to months of additional reading. On first perusal I found The Living Room Status Scale by F. Stuart Chapin from 1933.
Looking for a way to quantify social status, Chapin [F. Stuart, Chair of the University of Minnesota’s sociology department] began in 1926 to assign points to middle-class families on four scales – income; material possessions; cultural possessions; and community involvement. [His research] showed you didn’t need four scales. All you needed to know was whether certain objects were present in their living rooms.
The scale reads (and plays) like a crazy little parlour game that just happened to be incredibly accurate at the time. Think about your own living room then add or take away points according to your possessions and housekeeping skills. Or flip through design magazines and see if we still design around these key items. Maybe it’s not so out of date.
Hardwood floors: +10
Softwood floors: +6
Large rug: +8
Windows with drapes: +2 per window
Fireplace with three or more utensils: +8
Artificial light: +8
Kerosene lamp: -2
Piano bench: +4
Library table: +8
Armchairs: +8 each
Desk: +8
Bookcases with books: +8 each
Sewing machine: -2
Sofa pillows: +2 each
Alarm clock: -2
Radio: +8Three items could be in rooms other than the living room:
Filled bookcases: +8 each
Newspapers and magazine: +8 each subscription
Telephone: +8Points were also gained or lost for 4 categories of taste and condition:
Items spotted or stained: -4
Dusty room: -2
Disorder: -2
Order: +2
Furniture repaired: -2
Furniture in good repair: +2
Bizarre clashing schemes: -4
Drab and monotonous rooms: -2
Harmony: +2
The scale was updated twice, first moderately in 1942 and somewhat more thoroughly in 1999.
So I ask myself: how would our house and my fine, feminine homemaking skills measure up against this scale? (ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! okay I’ll stop laughing long enough to slip in this 1930’s marital test, too). Considering our house is in perpetual renovations and states of flex and creativity, umm, probably not that well.
We have exposed insulation awaiting drywall; a broken Morris chair from son perching on arm; we gave the piano to next door neighbour who wanted to learn to play; there is little hanging on the walls because the walls aren’t finished; the working fireplace is not working; I took all the draperies down; books and magazines are stacked everywhere; there are ceiling parts missing; a treadmill is tucked in the corner; a laptop lies on the couch, the cushions are messy and yes, there is dust. Plus today it’s a living room, but tomorrow, according to our flexible family and extended family requirements, it could easily convert to a main floor bedroom. Quelle horreur!
So you’ve finished the mental math. Which box does your carefully considered score stick you in?
Class Range in Scores
Upper Middle 125-149
Average Middle 100-124
Lower Middle 75-99
Workingmen’s Homes 50-74
Relief, poverty 25-49
Destitute 0-24
By my calculations we fare slightly above Hobo, which makes me glad the Queen is not coming to tea today. Everyone else who drops by or is invited is either a) used to the state of my house and familiar with my philosophy; or b) goes off and talks about my (our) slovenly housekeeping skills behind my back. Just for the record, I’m okay with either.
My mantra with the house, as it is with the vehicles, is to own little worth stealing. There are plenty of things in the house that I love (kids art, photographs, pottery, books, games, art supplies, a sweetheart stove, hand-painted floors and hand-carved pantry) but they’re of little value to a pawn shop or are too big to fit out the door. The bottom line is clean clothes, nutritious food, tons to read/access to information, cozy beds, freedom of expression, personal responsibility, beautiful views and gardens, a relaxed atmosphere, no excessive dirt, and enough love to fill yer boots. These things just don’t represent themselves well on The Sacred Scale. And what’s best of all? Husband operates on the same scale I do (or at least can’t be bothered to affect a change), which adds up to perfect marital bliss ;).