A few months ago, we were at the home of some friends of mine. Alan noticed that their house had several pedestal bowls, baskets and containers holding decorative balls. His reaction, like most men's, was "W. T. F. ?!?" I tried explaining it but, not being a craft-conscious, nurturing, homemaking-type chick, was a little out of my depth trying to explain the concept of decorative accessory spheres. Every time Alan had nearly dismissed the weirdness from his mind, he'd spy a new bowl with even more unusual decorative balls: he'd gotten past the wicker when he saw the leather one; he'd moved past the leather one when he saw the snakeskin and he'd almost forgotten the snakeskin when he saw the feathered one.

"But what are they FOR? What do they DO?" he asked forlornly, holding up yet another color co-ordinated decorative accessory sphere in frustrated puzzlement. You could see the subtext, "I'll NEVER understand chicks and chick equipment! NEVER!" scrolling across his brain.

As a concept, I don't quite get it either. They're just...there. They're decorative. They're trendy. Yes, I agree they're useless and it's kind of a silly item with which to accessorize one's home day-core. But it wasn't until I witnessed Alan's reaction that I understood the allure of decorative balls: to confound the male of the species! Now I see! At last I grasp the intrinsic value of the deorative ball! It's one of those enduring chick-mysteries we torture them with, like going to the bathroom in pairs and needing lots of black high-heeled pumps!

Don't look at me like that. I only bought seven.