I’ve spent a large chunk of my life now aspiring to have a home that is inhabited by glorious piles of magazines. Not too messy to be considered hoarder-ish, but also not so neat that they lack personality.

And I’m going to marry a man who dreams of a bare, industrial-style apartment where “there are as few things as possible”.

This living together thing, it can get kind of territorial, doesn’t it?

But of course, there is going to be no compromise on the magazines.


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