Feeling Blue

My decorating style has changed over the years. I remember in college, I had a light blue twin comforter with red cherries on it. I felt like I was really living on the edge then. My quiltish self had really broken the mold...

My senior year of college I was able to move into a duplex with 2 other girls. We had a smorgasbord of styles ranging from shabby chic to modern with a little dash of old school flavor. Remember console TVs? We had one of those. Yes, it can be considered a piece of furniture, and yes, we had picture frames on top of it. Remote or cable? What is that? You had to get up to change the channel. I have fond memories of 2am Bare Minerals Make-Up infommercials. I still wear it.

As a newlywed, I trended towards the burgundy and cream fabrics with foundations of dark woods. A "rich" looking style (not as in finances rich, but flavorful rich). After a year, we moved into the house we are in now. It was airy, had a loft, and different flavors of sherbety colors in each room. Needless to say, my decorating sense has changed again.

I still love creams and natural palettes, but it must have hints of color. Sometimes, hints of color aren't enough, and a big paint splotch is needed to jolt the mundane look. Textures are important to me, as well as meanings behind each piece of furniture, wall hanging, and even pillow.

The Nester, whom I follow religiously now, has inpsired me to try new things in my home. I dreamed I got to go to her yard sale, and in my dream it was in a warehouse. A WAREHOUSE. what in the world. I left with a miniature high chair for a doll and crib. Not quite sure where all that originated, but Nester, if you are reading this, just know that I'm really not as obsessed as I sound. I just really wish I could have gone to your yard sale (the real one, not the one in my dream).

The main splash of color in my living room now is blue. It is found in an over-stuffed slip-covered chair that we bought before we moved into this house. I have a beautiful, rich-colored brown piano that was my grandparents. I had a fleeting thought of painting that, but I quickly realized that in my deepest of hearts, I loved that rich color with all of its little nicks and scratches. It tells a story. The mirror hanging over the piano became the victim. I bought this mirror to go in our townhome, shortly after we were married. I took paint that we used for Jonah's nursery and slapped three coats on it.




Due to lack of sandpaper, I am not completely done roughing up the edges. I really hadn't fully decided on the whole "distressed" look, but as I was trying to hang it, I nicked the side of it. Out of sheer laziness, I decided the mirror was trying to tell me it really wanted to be distressed, not smooth. Ok, fine. I sanded it the best I could, but I can't find more sandpaper. I'm not completely done, but it hangs over the piano anyway. After all, IDHTBPTBB. If you don't know what those letters mean, you didn't visit my link to The Nester

still on table, waiting to dry


sorry the pictures are so bad


again, the lighting is bad but you get the idea...





And, in case you still couldn't find it, those letters stand for this: It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful....

Isn't that true? It applies to so much more than just decorating.....