Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/1033442
14 letter editor HUNT SLONEM M y maximal life. I've always been a maximalist at heart. I did have a moment — who hasn't — when I embraced Mies, Platner, Saarinen, and Neutra. But then I layered. There's a thick line between hoarding and collecting, discord and pattern play, a glue gun and fine craftsmanship. I am happiest in a Tony Duquette-inspired fever dream of a room; a chintz-covered cave of a library; or a simple shell-encrusted grotto. I have hundreds upon hundreds of books stashed at home, the office, and the farm, in bookshelves that, due to their immense proportions, dominate a room. Or they would dominate if not for the taxidermy. Hand-carried home from Deyrolle in Paris, purchased from auction and estate sales, ferreted out in nook-and-cranny shops around the world, these beasts, leering from walls, dominate a room. Or they would if not for the coral and shell specimens. Chinese red, dusty blue, pearl pink, and oyster gray, the coral clusters and branches resting atop stacks of books would dominate the room if it weren't for the Venetian gesso putto, marbled papers, and painted velvets. The Venetian bric-a-brac would dominate a room if it weren't for the hundreds of other things I can't live without ... Marie Kondo strikes fear in my heart. Minimalists lack soul. Materialistic maximalists dominate a room. Or they would, if it weren't for the clutter. Enjoy our Maximalist issue, dedicated to the Cabana magazine-reading, Tony Duquette-revering, gobsmack-jewel- wearing collectors out there. This issue is dedicated to you. Holly Moore Editor in Chief holly@papercitymag.com