The depressingly familiar, intensely irritating, million-candlepower grin returns. Self-described feng shui master Tony Chan, massively rewarded Svengali-gigolo/toyboy/lover to property tycoon Nina Wang, opens his 5,000-square foot apartment to Sing Tao and the Standard. In return, the newspapers carry Chan’s vague claim to have some sort of evidence that may help him avoid prosecution for forging the eccentric late billionairess’s will, blah blah blah. And they go easy on his wife’s shame, humiliation, uncertain future, looks, etc. But what we really want to know is: does this larger-than-life gold-digging creep’s interior décor betray his lowly, ill-bred origins?
The jury’s verdict, I think, will be unanimous: Chan is guilty beyond any doubt of nouveau-riche arriviste bad taste…
Exhibit 1: A piano, clearly never-used save as a display for photographs in (probably) gaudy frames. 2: Reproduction antique chest used to store DVDs of Hollywood blockbusters with lots of action and explosions (probably). 3: Nasty satin-effect drape thing to cover a table, like the one on the piano. 4: Vast, tacky, flat-screen TV with expensive sound system including bass speakers that shake furniture and internal organs during Hollywood explosions, plus (probably) smaller speakers at the other end of the room so viewers hear noises behind them during movies, because that’s just so high-class. 5: Two-gallon electric toothpaste dispenser, solar-powered, plays The Blue Danube. 6: Magic blade-less fan, apparently conjuring up a stream of cooling air out of nowhere, much to the fascination of the easily impressed (as seen displayed prominently at last weekend’s Guangdong and Macau Branded Products Fair). 7: Superfluous footwear syndrome – we’re so rich we have enough space to keep a hundred pairs of shoes inside rather than in the neighbours’ way out in the corridor.
A nice uncluttered cell in Stanley Prison will be a relief.