So how do we all feel about Tracey Emin’s bed?
The artwork has provoked strong emotions since its creation in 1998, from admiration to disgust and has drawn applause and ridicule in equal measure.
The work consisted of crumpled sheets on a bed surrounded by litter and personal objects such as tissues, empty vodka bottles, newspapers and underwear.
After a spell at the Tate, it was sold to gallery owner Charles Saatchi for £150,000 and then in 2014 fetched £2.2 million at auction at Christies.
Arguably, it’s a self-portrait that captures the essence of a person at a moment in their lives as well as any oil painting.
Or, you know, it’s just a very expensive unmade bed.
But here’s the thing, we all have a version of My Bed that gives away something personal about our lives.
The space on and around our beds may reveal the books we read, the photographs we cherish and the treasures we prize.
A bedroom is much more than a place to sleep, it is a den, a retreat, and a record of our tastes and personalities.
Funnily enough, no one really had one until around the 17th Century when the design of European houses changed, setting aside a private room for a bed.
More than any other room in the house, it’s a room just for its owner, and as such can be decorated and styled without a care for anyone else.
Sure, the bedrooms in show homes look uncluttered and inviting – but no one really lives like that, with nowhere to throw a pair of earrings or the Saturday morning paper.
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