3 min read

How to be fruitful

Lots of tangerines

The weekly micro-decorating newsletter * Issue 4 of 13, A24 *
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Earlier this month, my youngest brother visited from Los Angeles and brought me a gift he'd picked up at an estate sale: a large cluster of Lucite grapes. Little did he realize I've been meaning to write about faux fruit for a while now. I have a small but growing collection, now expanded by one item, and I find there's a mysterious appeal in artificial succulence.

So, the new display in my entryway got me thinking again about why this sort of object resonates:

Lucite grapes on a wall shelf

When I started Googling "Lucite grapes," I was delighted to discover a hilarious essay in The Wine Zine about precisely this decor phenomenon. The author, Molly Young, talks about her fascination with these grapes, sharing an origin account of how they became popular in the Sixties, yet falling short when it comes to explaining why they attract her.

She also draws a blank when trying to figure out what they say:

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"The decorative table grape is a paradigm of something objectively beautiful—lambent, colorful, nature-inspired—but functionally useless and bankrupt of meaning. They're an aged fad, as obsolescent as a paperweight or a rotary phone but without even the defense of bygone purpose."

Molly's bewilderment sent me back to some of my other pieces of decorative fruit. What could they possibly signify? I'm especially fond of this wooden bowl full of wooden produce that I picked up at Williams Design a while back. Maybe it's the fact that the display device and its contents are all the same material, giving it a slightly surreal unity:

Wooden fruit in a wooden bowl

I also like the fact that you can rearrange it, just like the real thing. But it's never going to be compromised by decay, or by the whims of appetite.

An apple-shaped container isn't at risk of being eaten either:

Apple-shaped container resting on a book

It's deliriously fake, assuming a familiar form while cranking up the intensity to eleven.

I do have some artificial lemons – you've seen them in previous articles – that are so convincing they could be mistaken for legit. I enjoy adding them to arrangements for an extra jolt of colour:

Book, ashtray and fake lemon arranged on a tabletop

But it's the admittedly unreal fruit that gets me the most, like this adorable lime:

Stuffed toy in the form of a lime

In the end, I beg to differ with Molly. I don't think these fake fruits are "bankrupt of meaning." In their comical exaggeration, they're essential reminders of life's verdant possibilities. And in their defiance of change, they're also reminders that the clock is always ticking, and the time to be fruitful is now.

Guy's buys

Occasional finds, selected for you

Looking to start a fruit collection – or grow the one you already have? A piece to consider is this Jonathan Adler bud vase, available at Toronto's Black Rooster Decor:

Banana bud vase

It's exactly the right mix of silly and sublime:

Banana bud vases, one with a tulip in it

Elsewhere

Can micro-decorating be therapeutic? Check out this New York Times article about how a woman grappling with loss finds solace in building miniature rooms from kits:

What a DIY Miniature Kit Taught Me About Big Feelings
I never learned how to slow down until life forced me to, and a DIY miniature kit was my unlikely teacher.

Scale up this effort a bit to full-sized shelves and tabletops, and you may have a form of real-life interior design with healing properties.

Thank you for reading.