Rooms Built For Love, and Then Some

The decor of the typical Harvard room contains little beyond the basics: twin extra long bed, desk, dresser, bookshelves, books and a computer. Common accents to this functional arrangement include posters and photographs, brand-name bedding, "quirky" knick-knacks and a TV or high-tech stereo.

But some people's design ambitions soar beyond this mundane, utilitarian conception. They venture into stimulating new territory by laying out their room for the purpose of maximizing carnal pleasure. "Love nests," "player's cribs," "pimp palaces"--there'll be no studying here.

Although the notion of a man optimizing his room's sex potential may pin him as "sketchy," the sheer extravagance of these setups is impressive, testifying to an extensive creativity fueled by a powerful sex drive.

To enter the Quincy House bedroom of Kane H. Waller '99, one must first wade through a curtain of bamboo beads strung over the doorway. A huge entertainment system greets the visitor with a 30-inch screen television, VCR, Sony Playstation, CDs and "essential movies" like Friday and The Nutty Professor.

Directly opposite the television is The Bed, a queen-sized structure extending from a nook in the wall (originally a closet). The Bed is covered by a silky black comforter and framed by a leopard-print valance and bedskirt. The leopard-print motif also saturates the room's black, blue and orange patterned rug as well as its black and yellow window drapes. Black lights illuminate posters of Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley while to the side a "Cosmic Circle" light radiates gently.

What prompted Waller to decorate this way? "I always have a lot of friends come over and I need a comfortable place away from academia," he says. But why do several rows of square mirrors panel the walls surrounding the bed? "The mirrors make [it] look bigger." Do they?

Waller's neighbor, Joseph P. Weidle '99, lives in a less shocking but equally impressive version of the libido lair. Again, the bed is the centerpiece of the room, but here the pallet conjures up the aura of an Arabian harem. Paisley print canopies billow across the bed frame and ceiling, dimming the light to a romantic incandescence. Lava lamps rest mounted from the bed frame and a teddy bear reclines near the pillows while the ubiquitous mirror paneling covers the adjacent walls. "It's so comfortable, I can't get out of bed," Weidle comments.

How much time does Glenn S. Jackson '99 spend in his Dunster House residence? "A lot," he jokes, "even though there are no books." Nor is there much of anything else--except a king-size mattress encircled by a room-spanning platform constructed to produce a completely sunken effect.

This is by no means the work of an amateur. Jackson built the platform out of wood, covered it with lavender carpeting, and strung the room's circumference with black bulb Christmas lights. A black beanbag and an entertainment system populate one wall of the room, the other three surfaces are blanketed with angled mirrors arranged to create diamond panels. Flying in the face of the conventional leopard-print, Jackson opts for another pattern of the savannah: zebra stripe, on a pair of boxers--yes, that's right, underwear--hanging on a hook in the corner.

What do women think of these dens of passion? All three men have girlfriends and, according to Waller, his lady "digs it, but she's not doing back-flips about it." She calls her man's pad "cozy and warm," but wonders just who exactly her boyfriend is planning to bring home. But though these rooms may be constructed with the best synthesis of function and creative expression, what, gentlemen, would Mom say if she came to visit?