Cast iron, dark and a little rough under the hand, shaped into antlers that branch out into a row of points to hang from. Nothing about it is polite.
The weight is real, the casting keeps the small pits and seams that iron always shows, and the tines hold a winter coat or a bag heavy with shopping.
Fix it by the back door, in a boot room, or along a hallway that could do with some of the outdoors brought in. It reads well against timber and against lime washed walls, and it flatters a house that has stopped trying to look new.
