There have been a ton of rumors about why Jo and I are leaving our show. Like, that I’m the Lindberg baby, and that is why my hair is long. Or that I insisted on making contact with a section of Waco that UNESCO declared a world heritage site due to its high ratio of effectively un-contacted persons. Sometimes, Jo and I laugh into mason jars until we scream, so that our TV family won’t hear us. No, the real, REAL reason we’re are leaving HGTV is to explore our new passion: 1970s European Brutalism.
See, Jo could only pretend to care about the special touches that make a house a home for so much longer. And I woke up one morning and said to myself, “Chip, you don’t give a hockey puck if these homeowners chose a reading nook in the playroom or a Juliet balcony off the master bath.” After some reflection and time with our pastor, we realized that what we really wanted to do was to cram a harsh, unwieldy post-war aesthetic down people’s throats.
So, no more shiplap. No more driving around in a pickup truck. No more lies.
Now we can say to the Smiths and the Prestons and all the other good families we’ve been blessed to work with: you are meaningless specks in the face of mechanization and the worker-state. Here is your concrete cube. We don’t care if you like it. It is functional enough for your purposes. Get over yourselves.
We totally get that this is kind of a new deal for everyone to get comfortable with. Like, if we take your family out for a naturalistic photo shoot in a field of bluebells, now we are just doing it for no reason, because the universe is chaotic. The photos will not be displayed in your house at its big reveal. When we pull back the oversized photo screen showing the old fixer upper, there will be no curb appeal, only a feeling of pervasive dread and the “beep, beep” of a concrete truck backing up onto the front lawn to start pouring more and more concrete.
Jo has shaved her head and is living in a squatter house on the outskirts of Berlin. I’m told she’s crafting a new line of scented candles and holiday door swag inspired by Belgian post-war public housing failures. We just know you’re going to love these for your family. They really bring out the feelings of desperation lurking just beneath the surface of commodity fetishism. So Christmassy!
With some extra time on my hands I, too, have developed a more utilitarian presentation of self. That is why some in our inner circle have found me lurking on their front porches wearing this flour sack unitard with grommets strategically placed to reveal my nipples. I do not know how to cook and, with Jo in Berlin, I am unable to care for myself. I probably need some electrolytes, but otherwise Chip is all good!
You may be wondering what will happen to our current ventures. As you know, over the last five years, we’ve released exclusive lines of paints, rugs, wallpapers, gene therapies, Janissary armies, pajamas, llamas, synchronized swim moves, guns, holsters, whips, and tankinis. Some of you have tried all of them, and you frighten us. In fact, our new favorite colors for fall are You Frighten Us and No We Can’t All Be Married.
Speaking of marriage, when Jo comes back I’ve put together a really special surprise vow renewal ceremony. We’ve always said that we put the Lord first, our marriage second, and our kids right after that. Our renewal vows will reflect our new priorities: we’re putting form first, the Lord second, and third is our new series of craft cocktails inspired by things Joanna experienced in Berlin without Chip. We are just stoked to share, from our family to yours, an ideologically pure answer to the fin de siècle decadence of the middle class!