I wish I lived in a house decorated to coordinate with my shoes. I’ve glanced at a few home magazines where they’ve positioned the owner, barefoot, thrown back on a nail head love seat, a vase of peonies on a well-appointed desk, under which, just so, sit a virtually untouched pair of fanciful shoes that somehow complete the look. “Lived in,” the designer would say of such personal touches—no, “It really humanizes the space.” As if really, without such details, we’d be left to imagine it was a hovel for storing grain or sheltering cattle.
I love mingling fabrics—a swatch of this and that. I would, if I had enough variety, organize my wardrobe by room instead of season. “Yes, these are my Wainscot clothes. Oh, that over there? Well, those are my Dexter side table pants; notice the taper?” For a date, I’ll squeeze into my powder room puff sleeves, but sometimes a girl just wants to dress like a den. Ironic that I’ve spent so much of my time dressed like a formal living room, when all I really wanted was a family room. I’m currently a nursery that’s transitioning into an office. It’s an empty-nest look, really, except this nest is full.
Had I been interviewed for such a glossy home zine I’d boast, “I really drew my inspiration from a scarf,” as if doing so made me superior in some inferior way. “My grandmother’s scarf,” I’d elaborate. Many people are charmed by mere mention of “antique” or “vintage.” That, or they love the idea of sentimental objects, that things are there for a reason, and bonus if they stir an emotional reaction or bring a sense of history. Sometimes it’s far too manufactured and intellectualized. Sometimes, you just wanted to add something because it felt right, or conversely, even though it serves no practical purpose and doesn’t coordinate with a room’s “mood,” you’re not giving it up. “I just like it.” It’s hard to argue with that, and yet… I can’t help feeling as if I like and gravitate toward things that someone else tells me to like (via marketing, advertising, trends, or because “she has it, and she has good taste”). I’m a sucker for impractical touches, for white nail head sofas and rooms no one with pets or offspring can afford, no matter the price. Like shoes, some fabrics look fantastic, but they’re a bitch to wear.
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I have an irrational love for a very 70s….I dunno even what sort of table it is – too small for coffee, too big for side. Anyhoo it is round with 4 'legs' that curve to meet at the bottom under a little round shelf. It has a dark veneer with blonde highlights and goes with absolutely nothing in the house.
It is cute, funky, a little bit embarassing,fairly useless and a good conversation starter. Perhaps it is the furniture version of me?
Ha, I notice the "casually-but-actually-very-well-thought-out" positioned shoes or dresses on a closet door things in interior mags as well. Though it looks pretty, it always looks a bit stepford-sterile to me.
I have dirty laundry, magazines and empty cups of tea on the floors of my appartment, guess that must make it overly-lived-in.
If I were a room in my house I would be the playroom…fun to play in, never picked up, sometimes you want to be in there for hours, and sometimes you want to run through it with blinders on pretending you don't see it…
"Ironic that I’ve spent so much of my time dressed like a formal living room, when all I really wanted was a family room."
Beautiful. If I had to pick a room, I suspect I'm already a bit family room (without the family). A little ragged around the edges, but comfortable and broken in just right.
I'd have to say every room in my house is inspired by my Converse low tops. Some rooms are scruffy and in need of repair and some are shiny and pristine — just like my new low tops.
All are comfortable and reflect the true essence of me.
I wish I could have a house like yours…
that would be a dream!
I don't wear shoes in the house, but my cattle and horses do. (horseSHOES, get it? yuck yuck yuck.)
If you hadn't rushed into marriage w/the wasband, I'll bet you could have had an awesome career as a photoshoot stylist.
FROM SK: Is it me, or was living with him 2 years before we got married not exactly "rushed into marriage?" And…
It's never too late to become what you're known for!
Me? I personally have a feeling that I'm going to write a ridiculously exceptional romantic comedy, and career-wise, that's what I'll be best known for. First though, I've got a TV show to write.
Substitute "singularly focused on" for "rushed into". And I was referring to your pre-writer life when you were at Grey (Ogilvy?)
FROM SK: Young & Rubicam… Wunderman. And, Hell Yes.
Great post, I had never thought of defining or styling both clothes and rooms this way…. maybe next time I have nothing to wear it will come in handy :)
How is the tv show coming? Or is that top secret :p I also think you mentioned Moose being optioned for a film in one of your interviews?
Sorry, nosy.
If I were a room . . . I`d be kitchen, comfortable, where everyone wants to hang out, full of great stuff. :D
I've had a lovely cream-and-pale-gray-ticking overstuffed just 2 weeks and already there's a small stain on the ottoman from a rogue shrimp in olive oil, panko and parmesan who popped over the plate.
This has nothing to do with your post. I actually just wanted to say that my friend Crystal recently got me hooked on your memoirs. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Moose. I remember the awkwardness I felt as puberty approached, and you capture it so well! Now I'm a high school teacher (9th grade English) and I'm surrounded by puberty 24/7. Thanks for bringing the world of adolescence to life so well. :)
I used to be a beautiful, untouchable, perfect, formal dining room, with ironed linens and perfectly shined silver.
Now I'm a beautiful, untouchable, perfect room in a cottage by the sea…warm, sunny breezes blowing through, contentment abounding, plenty of everything but not too much of anything. Fresh flowers in every room and strains of Vivaldi or Mozart 24/7.
Okay – that's who I *want* to be – who I aspire to be – who I *will* be.
In reality, I'm a pretty, slightly messy, comfy and cozy library – sporting hot chocolate and warm bread – but only to a very select group of teenagers and a very few other loved ones. Otherwise – no visitors allowed in my practically perfect world.
I would absolutely be a kitchen.
A little hot and fiery at times, but still the comforting places that everyone eventually gravitates towards … with an island (and cozy bar stools) in the center where everyone finds the nourishment they need most.
And I'd be happy!