Show Your Power with Gaudy Decor: How to Flex Without Saying a Word
Nothing says “I run the country” like spray-gold everything and furniture that screams bankruptcy-level confidence.
Written by Riggs D. Thermonucleon & Braska Nine, Director of Unpaid Interns (They Cry So You Don’t Have To)
All That Glitterz…
There are two types of power displays in the modern world: subtle competence and subtlety-free ostentation. Guess which one politicians and tech bros love?
Forget policy papers or legislative nuance—if your office looks like a Vegas Z-Gallery exploded in a Home Goods, congratulations: you’re signaling that you control everything. And we mean everything. Gold-plated doorknobs? Check. Throne-style office chairs? Naturally. Faux-marble desktops with embedded LED strips that cycle through every color of the rainbow? Obviously…(duh.)
Some psychologists call this “compensation,” others call it “an interior designer’s nightmare,” but we call it power theater. The message is simple: I am rich, I am untouchable, and my taste is optional (and questionable).
A Brief History of Gilded Excess
To understand today’s audacious displays, we need to hop in our imaginary time machine and visit Europe of the 1600s and 1700s. Back then, kings and despots applied Baroque and Rococo style—walls draped in gold leaf, mirrors the size of small ships, furniture that looks like it belongs in a palace or a gilded cheese platter—as a visual declaration of dominance. These styles were intentionally over-the-top: swirling seashell motifs, asymmetric tendrils, and flourishes designed to make visitors feel small, insignificant, and possibly vertiginous (dizzy and a bit pukey).
Rococo, the gaudier offspring of Baroque, became the preferred style of Europe’s nouveau riche bourgeoisie, who wanted to look like royalty without actually having to risk being decapitated by them. Cheap gilded plaster became the symbol of aspirational power—because if you can make stucco look like solid gold, why bother earning actual nobility?
Fast-forward 400 years, and suddenly Rococo isn’t just European; it’s Americanized. In colonial America, figures like Paul Revere dabbled in Rococo-inspired home goods, and the style permeated stoves, guns, and yes, cash registers. America’s love of gold, glitter, and glitz was never just about wealth—it was about showing off your survival skills in a country obsessed with freedom and conspicuous consumption (and a few firearms).
SIDEBAR: A PONCY JAUNT THROUGH HISTORY
Origins of Baroque & Rococo (AKA How Designers Trolled Kings for Fun)
Baroque: From the Portuguese “barroco” meaning “irregular pearl”—think lumpy, overstuffed “elegance.” Designers whispered “this is absurd” while Kings nodded solemnly, imagining divine taste.
Rococo: A mash-up of “rocaille” (shellwork) + “baroque”, the Baroque on caffeine doing gymnastics in silk slippers. French artisans giggled behind curtains as rooms swirled with gold and shells, knowing that anyone sober enough to notice might choke on their own awe.
Basically, both terms are history’s ultimate inside joke: make the royals think they’re classy, while you quietly cackle at their taste.
America’s Rococo Resurgence: Presidential Edition
In 2017, the American public was treated to a Rococo “revival” with a distinctly modern twist: Trump’s Oval Office makeover. Described by the NYTimes as a “gilded Rococo nightmare,” it featured a parade of golden objects that marched across the mantel like an army of overambitious cherubs. Gilded floral inlays (discards from Home Depot tarted up with gold Krylon Ultra-Gloss™) formed a chain around the cornice, and polished doorknobs made the presidential seal glint with the intensity of a thousand suns.
Art wasn’t exempt: gold-framed presidential portraits crawled up the walls, including his Photoshopped “TIME” magazine cover and a copy of his own mug shot hung nearby—because why just command history when you can also look like the headline? And, because symmetry is for the faint of heart, two gilded mirrors flanked the fireplace, letting any visitor experience the full pantheon of greatness… or delusion… reflected back at them. Situated on a side table with an assortment of gold-plated ketchup caddies and vape pens sits the 2025 World Cup trophy, “borrowed” from FIFA never to be returned. (Let’s not forget the “Flying Brothel” that was ‘contributed’ to the Air Force by Qatar for “free” - requiring the repurposing of $934 million from a defense system to perform “upgrades” to monstrosity with wings.)
Why Gaudy Decor Works
Intimidation Through Opulence: Visitors immediately understand that money talks and taste takes a nap. If someone trips over a gilded footstool while sneaking in a question about competence, that’s bonus intimidation.
Distraction: A visitor spending three minutes squinting at a rococo-appliqué-laden mantel is three minutes they aren’t asking difficult questions about policy, profitability, or whether your quarterly earnings exist.
Branding Without Words: Every gold-plated object is a business card screaming: I don’t follow trends, I make trends (and overpay for them).
Memes Await: Once photos leak to Twitter or LinkedIn, your gaudy choices become viral content. Nothing cements a legacy like online ridicule.
How to Gild Your Startup (or Home Office) Like a ‘President’
Do invest in reflective surfaces—mirrors are a cheap way to double your perceived power, not just for the rubes, but for you as well as you preen in front of every reflective surface.
Don’t mix metals willy-nilly unless you want clown-chic, the design equivalent of a midlife crisis in fluorescent.
Do place gold objects in the line of sight of guests; people respond to visual hierarchy more than memos.
Don’t forget function—nothing says “leader” like a gold desk you can’t actually write on.
Do embrace absurdity—if you’re not risking eye strain, are you really flexing?
The Psychology of Gold
Gold signifies wealth, stability, and influence, which is why the 1% in America have always been drawn to gilded excess. But there’s also a delicious irony: by wrapping everything in gold, you reveal the illusion of permanence. Underneath the plaster, it’s just paint and ambition. And yet, we collectively buy into it—because the lust for gold is deeply American, rooted in both revolution and the ostentatious consumption of a free market gone wild (and ads on OAN).
Whether it’s a $175 billion missile defense shield that looks like a Golden Dome or a $5 million immigrant visa card, our society has a flair for dressing serious things in gold-plated whimsy. It’s a display of power that’s simultaneously elitist, “democraptic”, and entirely ridiculous.
Closing Thought
Gaudy decor is the ultimate status signal. It’s loud, unrepentant, and perfectly aligned with the philosophy that wealth, ego, and poor taste can coexist—and even thrive—at the highest levels of government… or your startup.
By embracing Rococo-Americana (no, it is not an STD, though it should be) in your office, you’re not just redecorating; you’re performing. You’re sending a message that reads: I am untouchable. I am absurd. And yes, I’m totally okay with you laughing at me…GUARDS!! SEIZE THEM.
Because in the end, power, like taste, is for show. And sometimes, that show is awful—but fabulous!
Gold Plate This Grift
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Gilt THIS!
This is satire. Do not attempt to gold-plate your way to power unless you enjoy public ridicule, eye strain, or mass ridicule on social media. We are not responsible for financial ruin, taste-related trauma, or jealous coworkers plotting subtle sabotage.