Marrying a man is like buying something you've been admiring for a long time in a shop window. You may love it when you get it home, but it doesn't always go with everything else in the house.

Kerr uses a domestic, consumer metaphor to puncture romantic idealization. Courtship is likened to admiring an object at a distance—projecting desire onto a curated “shop window” view—while marriage is the moment the purchase enters the messy ecosystem of everyday life. The line “doesn’t always go with everything else in the house” suggests that compatibility is not just about affection but about fit: habits, values, routines, families, and the accumulated “furniture” of a life already in place. The humor softens a sober point: love may persist, but marriage tests how well two people integrate, compromise, and accommodate difference once fantasy gives way to lived reality.