In a white room, with purple beanbags

“Hello, Ms. Darcy? This is Mrs. Fennington Bennington IV. I’m redecorating my Manhattan apartment, and I hear you are quite the rage amongst the cognoscenti. Here’s what I have in mind: soulless. Complete, sere, soullessness. I want my place to inspire abject depression and determined wrist-slashing at a moment’s glance. Can you do that?”