I’ve always said there’s no better way to stage a home than to light it on fire—figuratively, of course—so I suppose it was only natural that at 50, I’d end up at Burning Man. I thought it’d be a midlife crisis remedy, like a margarita with more dust and less shame. But what I found there was… well, let me tell you.
Picture this: I’m hauling a vintage Airstream trailer across the desert, full of throw pillows and mid-century modern furniture because, clearly, I missed the memo on "radical self-reliance" and thought "radical style" was more important. Anyway, within an hour of setting up my Instagram-worthy camp, word spreads like wildfire. “The Home Stager is here,” they said. Suddenly, I’m not just Justin the Home Stager—I’m Justin the Desert Design Guru. People wanted me to stage their tents, their yurts, their... art cars. I staged a man’s bicycle. His bicycle! It was ridiculous, but what can I say? It’s a gift.
On the second day, I found myself standing in front of a nine-foot flaming cactus while wearing a headdress made entirely out of pool noodles. This was not on my 2024 bingo card. And that’s when it hit me: I was the celebrity of Black Rock City. I didn’t seek fame, but here I was, staging someone’s porta-potty in exchange for kombucha. And you know what? I crushed it.
Then came the odd requests. One woman asked me to design her space using only broken bike parts and feathers. Did I deliver? Obviously. Another group wanted their camp to look like an alien spaceship crash site—but with a "luxury minimalist" twist. It’s not like I hadn’t worked with clients that picky before. Honestly, it wasn’t even the weirdest week of my career.
By the end of the week, I was the talk of the playa. I gave TED-style talks on the benefits of having “flow” in your Burning Man camp. I posed for photos next to my masterpiece: a fully staged art installation titled "Mojave Mid-Century Madness." People came from across the desert to see my tent staging, calling it “transformative.” One guy even offered me his laser-cut metal dragon sculpture in exchange for a consultation back in San Francisco. You know, just another Tuesday in the desert.
As I left the playa, driving my Airstream out of the dust, I reflected on my newfound fame. Had I become the world's first desert home-staging icon? Absolutely. Was I going back next year? You better believe it. Only next time, I’m staging the entire event.
Justin
PS. The above is a ficticious account of my burning man experience. If you want to hear the real account call me, its so much weirder than even this ridiculousness.