Would it be eggstravagant to buy a $298 item billed as an “egg chandelier,” a wrought-iron centerpiece on which one can display 11 — ideally, boiled — eggs? And what about if each of those eggs wore an “egg dress,” a scrap of scalloped lace that one is meant to wrap around said egg before tying it together with a black ribbon? (Black tie! And a comparative steal at $28 for a set of six.)
The undoubtedly *ahem* eggstra approach of these tabletop (stick with me here) eggcessories feels eggsactly the point — these decorative oddities are the creation of Gohar World, a new houseware brand whose bizarre designs will forevermore fill the straight-out-of-Beetlejuice dream house I’ve constructed in my head. Millennial minimalism is decidedly less cool than it was six years ago, and in its place has come the resurgence of maximalism and the rise of “cluttercore.” It is amid this aesthetic shift toward the zany, the colorful, and the absurd that Gohar World chaotically emerges, the brainchild of food artist Laila Gohar and her sister and fellow artist Nadia.
Laila Gohar is notably the creator of ridiculous food designs like a hand-shaped butter sculpture, mochi designed to look like breasts, and various kinds of jelly cakes. Gohar World’s collection continues with a similar sense of the surreal to include: a cloth plate cover with “chicken feet pearls,” a “lace bonnet for bonbons,” and a tablecloth that looks like you’ve wrapped your table in a giant button-down shirt, collar and placket included. But it is the eggcessories (again, what I am calling them) in particular that draw my affection; they are also seemingly endorsed by Lorde, who commented on Laila Gohar’s Instagram post showing them off to say: “My favourite piece.”
To be clear, I am not — and likely will not ever be — in a position in which I could buy a thing like an egg chandelier and not be wracked with guilt over my reckless spending. And yet, it will undoubtedly remain one of those things I come back to online time and time again for a quick hit of levity and self-indulgent fantasy — right alongside Fashion Brand Company’s clothing line for lizards. (I do not currently have a lizard.) While it’s jarring to accept that a $300 egg chandelier that one might use a handful of times is like, NBD to some people in our existing world, it is also nice to imagine a world in which I could buy such silly and ultimately useless things.
In my wildest, spend-without-abandon fantasies, I’d sit at my unreasonably long dining table for a dinner party with Lorde and my lizard, wearing its egg sweater, and we’d all admire the well-dressed eggs on their chandelier before us. (There would be onion rings, of course.) If you are the wealthy benefactor who can make this happen, you know where to find me. Until then, I’ll keep refreshing the page, hoping for a steep, steep discount.