A pixelated lily pad in a furnished apartment is an unlikely starting point for a rewatch of Trading Spaces. The host holds up a few of the prints that came with the rental, jokes about what they resemble, and offers to ship one to anyone who likes it. The jokes land because the host can appreciate the effort to fill the apartment with art while still wanting to take it down. That distinction gives the reaction a point of view before the first makeover begins.
The opening montage moves from a room lined with hay to a beach-themed makeover complete with sand, but the sharpest example is a fireplace the homeowner explicitly asked the team to leave alone. Her distress at the reveal makes the consequences of ignoring a request plain. By the time the featured episode introduces two families who are friends, the host has a better question than whether the finished rooms will look good. How much say do the people helping with each makeover actually have?
Hildi Santo Tomas gives that question plenty of room to play out. She plans to hang 170 yards of fabric, paints only the surfaces the drapes will leave exposed, and sprays the upholstered furniture with paint she confirms is meant for something other than fabric. The host gets good comic mileage out of the drapes looking like a circus tent, but the sharper observation is what taking them down would leave behind. When rain spoils the painted furniture and the show authorizes replacements, a request to hook up the sprayer again turns a small callback into one of the funniest moments.
Genevieve initially looks like the safer bet because she talks about making a plain room inviting for teenagers and parents. The reaction gains credibility by holding her to the same standard once she leans into an orange wall treatment over objections and uses an obi above the closet door despite the homeowner’s stated aversion to Asian-inspired prints or writing. At the reveal, the host briefly grants that the room looks better than expected, then remembers why the family wanted the makeover in the first place. The missing piano and the attention lavished on the wall finish make for a more specific critique than the running jokes about orange.
The homeowners’ first questions in Hildi’s room are about where their things and their door went, which says more about the drapes than another round of circus jokes. The two reveals give the reaction a payoff after a long build, although the host often repeats the objection a clip has already made clear. The commentary is also more confident about hazards than the footage warrants. Asking how anyone would clean that much fabric is a fair practical question, while calling the wall treatment toxic goes beyond what the segment establishes.
Back at the apartment, the host jokes about painting the rental couch before considering a textile cover that would let the furniture stay intact. It is a neat return to the question of what a makeover leaves the next person to deal with. The flea market has its own comic finds, including a pencil drawing of Justin Bieber and an old BlackBerry, but the browsing runs a little long for a trip that ends with a utility knife and no new decor.
Pros
- The apartment art gives the host a personal reason to revisit the makeover show.
- The sentimental fireplace clip establishes what a homeowner can lose when a designer ignores a clear request.
- The request to hook up the sprayer again gives the furniture debacle a well-timed comic payoff.
- The host judges Genevieve’s makeover against the family’s original request for a room they can use together.
- The homeowners’ questions at the reveal expose practical problems the designers barely address.
Cons
- Repeated jokes about the orange wall and circus drapes slow the build toward the reveals.
- Some of the insults aimed at Hildi crowd out a closer look at how much authority the homeowners and their friends had.
- The claim that the wall treatment poses a toxic hazard goes beyond what the segment establishes.
- The flea-market browsing stretches the ending without showing much progress on the apartment.
The best laughs come when someone in the room asks the obvious question the designer has skipped. The reaction could trust those moments to carry more of the comedy, but its eye for what families actually do in their living rooms gives it substance beyond the shock of the reveals.
