Once upon a time, I dreamed of an old house full of plants, color, and funky secondhand furnishings. Then I found a husband and was persuaded to buy a very traditional 1940’s Colonial in the suburbs. It was someone’s dream house, but it wasn’t mine. Before I knew it, I was shopping at Banana Republic and living in a Pottery Barn catalog. Blech!
Then I left all of that and moved to Denmark where I found the ultimate vintage flat. Unless it came with a gas stove, and a clawfoot bathtub instead of a shower, it couldn’t have been more perfect if it was built especially for me. For a little over a year, I tried to love my light, neutral walls. I tried to convince myself that it would be easier to resell if I fell in line with the Scandinavian norm and kept the walls neutral and light. But I soon realized that I was living in an Ikea catalog and I didn’t like that any more than I liked living in a Pottery Barn catalog.
I bought this place to live in, not to resell. It’s my home, so to hell with norms, resale value, and the rest of it. I’m going to add color to my life :)
And so, I dipped my toe into the color pool. My design advisor tried to guide me toward a lesser commitment, “maybe white with lavender undertones,” he’d said. But I’d sold out before. The list of compromises went on and on until I wondered why I was even paying the mortgage. Screw that, there’s no compromising this time!
I’m definitely thinking about a new floor, black and white tile, or maybe aged hardwood to match the rest. There will be more color in the other rooms. I’m thinking red in the bathroom, deep pink in the bedroom, and who knows what in the other rooms!
Who cares if the next owners wonder what I was thinking? It’s only paint… it can be undone :)