I’ve never appreciated wallpaper. Growing up ” to wallpaper over” something was to hide it. You did it to conceal something you didn’t want to see, which was unattractive. So it made it challenging to appreciate fine art and designer wall coverings. These have about as much to do with frowsy old-fashioned stuff you strip off in layers as poorly slopped on varnish does to a beautiful buffed varnish yacht finish.
I know that it has its admirers. But I remember once dating a girl who asked me to help her select furnishing for a new apartment. After an hour of looking at wallpaper swatches, I knew we were not meant for each other. So I wandered over to the paint. A week later, she took offense to how I hung the wallpaper. I suggested that going without covering was more comfortable, and she indicated that layers were the way to go.
I shrugged, she got angry, and that ended the relationship.
A week later, we met for coffee to try to reconcile; she accused me of wallpapering over the differences in our respective personal styles. What could I say? I was interested in having everything bare; she liked to cover up. In more than one way, it was never going to go anywhere.

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