Not to be rude, I told Marian McEvoy as I picked up a slim red copy of her new book from a stack waiting to be autographed recently at the West Hollywood antiques store Nathan Turner, but "Glue Gun Decor: How to Dress Up Your Home — From Pillows and Curtains to Sofas and Lampshades" struck me as, well, a wee bit of an odd undertaking for an international style sophisticate.

Could there be a less-sexy topic, a more prosaic mouthful of a title? This, from a woman who spent a decade as editor in chief of Elle Decor, and then two years in the same role at House Beautiful? Who lived for 16 years in Paris working as the European fashion editor for Women's Wear Daily and W Magazine, and as executive editor of Elle?

No offense intended, of course. And none taken, not by a long shot. You don't arrive at the places McEvoy's been by lacking a secure sense of self — along with a healthy sense of humor.

The 57-year-old, L.A.-born-and-raised McEvoy has the kind of dazzling aplomb that can make everyone else in the room come off like timorous little nail-biters. "My Way" could be her theme song.

Since the book's publication in early May, McEvoy has heard the same surprise and skepticism expressed so many times in so many words by her peers, she expects it now. "Everybody says that," she answers with a quick chortle and a so-what shrug.

That's because we don't get it, is the unspoken suggestion, and we don't get it simply because we haven't tried it. She acknowledges that most people hear "glue gun" and think "how tacky." Too bad, our loss. We're missing what her book calls "one of the hottest trends in home decorating today." Embellishing objects with a glue gun is affordable, fun and fast — "instant gratification," she says — and "you can turn something humble into something really beautiful. It's a wonder tool."

"Glue Gun Decor," a guide to transforming just about everything in sight if you do it the McEvoy way, is exactly the project she was meant for after 15 years of wielding what she claims is her "No. 1 decorative ally." In 1990, she hot-glued hundreds of shells onto a fireplace. Since then, she's been a woman possessed.

"In fact," she tells us in her introduction, "there's very little in my day-to-day life that hasn't been shot by a glue gun," and boy, does she mean it.

"I did everything but the rugs," she says. "If I could figure out a way to do those, I'd do them too." Had her publisher Stewart, Tabori & Chang called the book "Glue Gun Madness" instead, it might more accurately have captured the essence of McEvoy's decor style: "More dash than cash," she calls it, and just this side of overkill.

Photos in the book and in the spring issue of Oprah's magazine O at Home, featuring her house in New York's Hudson Valley, hint at the truth behind McEvoy's words. Embroidered patterns cut out from suzanis (small tapestries from central Asia) she finds on eBay gussy up plain white pillows that cost her $4 each and the borders of $2-a-yard muslin curtains. Murals of mini pine cones, seed pods, weeds, leaves and acorns swirl about in glued formations on a bedroom wall. Patches of red and black fabric trim a Target lampshade atop an iron Pottery Barn base.

On a balmy afternoon in the genteel antiquery with her close friend Turner, I watched her work on framed mirrors that were to be auctioned to benefit Hollygrove — a community organization serving abused and neglected children — and show several more portable, finished examples of her work: a large tote bag, a small straw handbag, a leash for Turner's yellow Lab, Daisy, variously festooned with grosgrain ribbons, bows, industrial tape and pompoms.

I've been intrigued by McEvoy since the early '90s, when I'd seen a nine-page magazine feature on her SoHo loft. To this day, I hang on to a copy of it, still enamored with the look of the place and still deluding myself that I might be risky and inventive enough to "Marianize" my own apartment.

With cans of glossy black and blue paint and liquid gold markers, McEvoy attacked tables, daybeds, urns, chairs, you name it, creating free-form designs almost tribal in demeanor but grand and elegant in their final incarnations.

She can barely remember what she did with most of the furnishings when she sold the place several years ago. "I don't know, I gave them away, I suppose. I guess I must have tired of them. Like I'm tired of using shells. ... Maybe I overdid it. I'm into pebbles now. I want to do floors with them next."