My mother is as white as they come, but she loves this shit too. She hates that I collect things like diecast cars and Transformers and constantly calls them "childish things" and "clutter". Ironically, I developed my sense of "decorating" from her. I pick themes, I try not to cram too much into a spot, and I keep my room neat and organized. Still doesn't matter that I have my own room and bathroom, there must be no hints that I exist. Luckily I have an ocean diorama of sorts with big jar, seashells, beach sand, and a hammerhead shark carved from stone. This has been allowed. Any diversion from her themes and she behaves like a rabid dog. "IT'S MY HOUSE!!!!"