In fresh fabrics and textures– suede, wool, or denim, belted sweaters/shirts/jackets are appearing at an increasing rate this season. I love the finished feminine look. There is something seventies about it paired over flared jeans.
I am not a beauty junkie by any means but when a favorite beauty product goes MIA or worse, discontinued, I am none too happy. I still think about Clinque Sun Gold lip gloss and OPI nail gel color “Don’t Burst My Bubble”. For the past 6 years I have been buying these mini lip glosses on eBay from the same seller. I think they were only available in the Gap Stores for one Christmas season but I love how tiny they are (they fit in that little pocket in my jeans) and how little color they actually deposit on my lips no matter what they look like in the tube. They arrive by mail looking illicit in a zip loc bag. Oooh. I think my source is out of them after this shipment. What will I do?
The compromise of decorating a space starts as soon as you as you care how you live. For some, it begins when your parent tells you that how to keep your bedroom differently than how you want it. What ensues is either a capitulation or triumph, or a compromise.
Living with a significant other can be like that too. I have friends who’s husbands do not care one bit about decor but they vehemently care about the cost. Others, who are more rare, have carte blanche to spend luxuriously on furnishings of their choice without a peep from their significant other.
And then there are the partners that care about both. That is the hardest. I am lucky that my husband and I are most often than not, on the same page with both cost and design sensibility. In fact, when I trust his judgement I am often happily surprised how wrong I was.
A certain, very expensive leather recliner is 10-12 weeks in my future. Aesthetically, I am concerned. But lovingly, I am not. Good design includes love and tolerance.
When Pantone, the color forecasting agency, announces the color of the year, the design world spreads the word through blogs, magazines,social media and news articles. It is an event.
I just need to reference the clip from “The Devil Wears Prada” where Miranda Priestly explains the importance of color proclaimations on international commerce to silence any derision.
This year, Pantone declared “Greenery” the color of 2017. Instead of running out and throwing down some green on green, I walk around my house and see how what I already own fits the news. Aha, I have two green sofas. There you go. I’m good.
Last year I wrote a list of words/phrases that occurred in 2015 a bit too much. I see now this will be an annual compilation. Here’s my 2016 list. Cheers to 2017.
_____lives matter. (There should be no word used other than black. While many things matter to many people the original phrase is not appropriate-able at all. The original phrase isn’t on this list. If you don’t understand why that’s a different conversation)
I feel like,
Answering a question with, “I didn’t say that”
In fashion if you want to elongate, monochromatic dressing is employed by using the same color head to toe. I think that concept is what draws me to a monochromatic lacquered room. The use of the same saturated color (though even white is stunning), both on the wall and the trim, brings the eye from the floor to ceiling uninterupted. The lacquered sheen adds drama and attention to the trimwork. Matte finish monochromatic rooms are also interesting, but the trim work needs to be ample to create texture in the absence of shine.
One of the most incredible things you can do to add to your personal style and the style of your home is to make a dog (or a cat) a part of it. Over the 14 years our yellow lab Lucky was with us, she sat on pretty much every surface. Yes, there has been tons of dog hair floating through my house, fur balls hidden in the corners and under the furniture. As a puppy she ate a leather sofa, dented an heirloom necklace while teething, humped my velvet pillows (eeeew) and jumped up on counters to eat a perfectly baked cake, chicken, steak and loaves of bread. As she became older she ruined a rug or two, had the worst garbage breath, kept the carpet cleaner in business and took ownership of all my time.
She was the best at making our house feel like a home. Sometimes, when I walked barefoot on our wood floors I could feel the warmth of her body on my feet after she had just gotten up. If I dropped something while eating, she was there to make it look like it didn’t happen. The sound of her little paws added to the timbre of a quiet morning. Her bark reassured us however weakly, that she was our warning system. I knew my community better because of our constant walks. Her friendliness brought neighbors into my life and even secured clients for me. My body and spirit were enriched by keeping up with hers. When anyone of us was mad, sad or generally hating the world, she was our safe haven of love. Just the thought of her when I out was enough to make me smile and get excited to return home.
So, now that she is gone, the fur is minimizing, the time spent tending to her is available, and my home is cleaner. But so what? I am reminded so many ways I will miss her. How our house isn’t the same and how she was an infinite addition to our lives.
Her remains are in a tiny box on a bookcase near where she hung out with me in our study. I glance up to it and thank god she was ours and know she is really still here and will always live in our hearts no matter where we are.