An update on the crazy.

We are now into week two...or maybe it's week three...the swirling, spinning craziness makes it hard to keep track...of the entry/hall/den redo. Part of the crazy is that my daughter unexpectedly got smacked between the eyes with decoration inspiration because of all the commotion (go figure...I would have thought watching this insanity might have cured her...but noooooo), and decided to redo her room at the same time. So now we have virtually every single room in the house consumed with the mess. Either it's actively being torn apart and redone, complete with ladders, drop clothes, tools and equipment, or it's become the repository for everything that has been moved out of the areas under direct assault. My kitchen counters have become the resting place for extra staples for the staple gun and nails for the nail gun, scraps of paper with Very Important Measurements of something written on them, caulk, and spackling paste; my living room holds tables and pictures from the hallway, and the dining room --- I kid you not --- has a brand new but shitty mattress that arrived as part of the sleeper sofa and is now unnecessary since we purchased an upgraded mattress separately. The only room that has remained untouched by the chaos is our bedroom.

Our no guts/no glory saga began when we had the furniture delivered a week ago and it couldn't fit into the room. Oh, fun. Oh, joy. Oh, happy day! The movers measured everything very carefully and assured us that they could get it through the window. They half-jokingly told us we were lucky it was the two of them on the delivery; none of the other drivers would attempt such a thing.

So we attempted to remove the window and discovered that the sash for the double hung window system was broken, necessitating a full repair job. However this was a blessing because we could. not. get. the. window. out. There we all stood looking at springs and cord hanging limply down the side of a window that resolutely refused to budge from its spot. The repair people were called. They could be out -- tomorrow.  The delivery guys loaded up the truck with our furniture and said they would come back next week.

Again, in a weird all-the-screw-ups-are-actually-blessings-in-disguise kind of way, the postponed delivery allowed me the opportunity to tackle the walls without furniture to climb over which, as I mentioned in a previous post, were going to be upholstered. By me. Because I had watched a YouTube video. So I knew what I was doing. It was going to be easy. It was going to be fun.

Yeah, I spell stupid with five letters.

But timing is everything in life and my fabric didn't arrive until the following Wednesday, the day before the re-scheduled delivery. Thursday morning I started the job and after three HOURS had exactly one wall done  when the delivery truck rolled into our driveway. Lovely.

The two young men who climbed out were NOT the two from last week. Even LOVELIER. When I directed them to the side of the house where they were to heft an enormous sofa through the window, they both instinctively started backing away, shaking their heads.

It was time for charm. But there was no one but me.

I laughed. "That's what the guys from last week said. They said I was lucky because none of the other drivers would even attempt such a thing."

Suddenly male chests thrust out just a little and there was a sense of friendly competition in the game. "That so?" one of the young men said, obviously accepting the challenge. "I think we can do it."

And they did.

After they maneuvered the sofa and chair through the window, I told them to go back to the other guys and tell them not to be talking smack about them.

So with the furniture now delivered, I had to continue with it taking up all the space in the center of the room, only the barest perimeter available to set up ladders and equipment to continue with the easy-peasy upholstering job.

This is what I worked around.

Here is how it looks now.

I still need to finish the walls with braid and cording to hide the staples and to hang blinds and build the cornice for the windows, as well as hang paintings. But with every nail a hole in the fabric, you can be guaranteed that I am not going to hang a bloody thing until I am absolutely certain of where it goes. That may take some time. I'm not just stupid, I'm slow, too.

As for the entry and hall? Well, completion was pushed back because of the media room. I'm now shooting for early March.

Everything needs paint, and after the upholstering insanity, I've hired the wallpaper to be done.

I'm stupid, but I'm not crazy. Completely, I mean.

Nothing you really want to know.

I've been incredibly busy lately because I got a bee in my bonnet to redecorate my foyer and entry hall, and then to turn a spare room into a media room/den. I could pay to have it all done and just stand back and sip champagne while directing traffic, but I have neither the money nor the patience with incompetency to do that. If someone is going to be incompetent and screw things up royally, I can do that for free. Besides, I then have money left over to buy better champagne, which I will need because after I screw it all up, I will drink myself into oblivion. At that point, good champagne is a definite plus.

First, for anyone who has actually read my blog from the beginning (Mom, I know that's you), I decided NOT to do the hand-painting, stenciling creation I have been lusting for, despite my legendary, intrepid stupidity at DIY projects. Instead, I decided to divide the stupid in half and then times it by 2 to arrive at the same "what-the-hell-am-I-doing?" place. I arranged to have someone else come in and hang my wallpaper, but I did the crown moulding, wainscoating and chair rail in the entry and hallway. This part of the "stupid" was entirely intentional and well-planned-out in advance, so there's no one to blame but myself.

The media room/den was the "impulse".

You have to understand our family to have an appreciation of how decisions are made around here. I am aware that most families make big decisions over a period of days or weeks, maybe even months, carefully budgeting and assessing the cost/benefit ratio of one decision over another. Not here. In our home, things are done in a much more spectacularly spontaneous way. The other day our daughter announced that her TV no longer received most of the channels and we learned that the analog set she had was rapidly becoming outdated as the signals were being switched to digital through government edict. So we needed a new TV. And of course you can now see where this is going. If we're going to have to buy a new TV, then we might as well convert a spare room into a media room and "do it right."

But "doing it right", in this home, is always a nailbiter.

Off we went to buy the TV. And sound system. Of course we needed a new sofa and chair. Make that queen sleeper sofa, so that the room could accommodate guests. Tables...lamps...CHECK.

Then what to do with the walls? It had been a not-particularly-interesting bedroom for its entire life and needed a make over. Now was as good a time as any. Furniture was on order and time was of the essence. Somehow I ran across a YouTube video detailing how to upholster walls and how great that was for media rooms because of the enhanced sound quality and how it was SO EASY!  Direct quote, "Upholstering walls, in general, is SO much easier than you would think. I mean, it's MUCH less messy than wallpaper."

Right. After watching that video, I had visions of me, being this:

In reality, this experience has reduced me to this:

 
I am currently at the "What-the-hell-am-I-doing-again?" stage. This is a stage in every DIY project that is so inescapably inevitable for me that DIY should really stand for "Damn. It. YIKES!"

So wish me luck. To keep you entertained, and because I am so miserable that I am wantonly indulging my vicious streak, here is a video of one more PSY Gangnam style redo. This one, however, is brilliant. Almost as good as the horse.





THERE WILL BE UPDATES. BE WARNED.

If you didn't see it, I didn't do it.

God lives in the details.

"God lives in the details" is a saying in the design industry. It reminds you to look beyond the big swath of color and form and pay attention to how something will actually work. This is a perfect example of not doing that.

I Am a Racist

I hate whitey.

All kinds of whites.

White is boring and visually undefined. Yawn.

Color -- rich, glorious, emotionally-charged -- has an impact that stuffy old whitey never can.

A Mark Hampton library. Doesn't this just ooze comfort?

Dark colors actually illuminate a space, highlighting beloved treasures.

Could white walls EVER make you feel as cheery as this room instantly does?

I am always amazed at the reluctance of people to use color in their homes. What's the worst that could happen? You waste a day painting...and...okay...another day repainting. But honestly! Isn't a little risk worth having surroundings that rejoice in saturated, lovely color?

And paint is cheap! So...DO IT!

H/T: Cote de Texas and (my favorite designer) Mark Hampton

Fonts Have Feelings Too

Maybe you'll remember that when you go after the stodgy yet reliable Times New Roman, or pick on poor Trajan Pro who must have a low stress threshold because he's always yelling.

WARNING: Strong language and humor. If you are easily offended or don't have a clue what a font is, or don't want to laugh, don't go there.

You can see why he's upset. This shit happens all the time.

It's Sunday

After cleaning all day yesterday, I did a little decorating...spruced the place up a bit. Like it?

 

Today is going to be my day of rest. And chicken.

Lust

There are very few things in life over which I truly lust. You know...lust...where the imagination for what one desires is so luminous that even the most pleasant current circumstance can't fill the sense of emptiness, the NEED to have what isn't there.

De Gournay wallpaper is what I lust for...desperately. Lately I've been spending my days imaging the colors...the images of birds and butterflies and flowers flitting across my walls...how the light might play upon its muted hand-painted splendor. Unrequited, I must add, as it is about a bazillion dollars a roll for such beauty.

 Exquisite...gorgeous...sensuous...

...sophisticated...tantalizing...

...and completely out of reach.

So I found this fabulous website which said I could do it myself. ah-HA! At last I could have my love. All it would take, as she coyly put it, was "some painting skills...but overconfidence can work too." Right up my alley! I am nothing if  not overconfident. Especially important as I have NO painting skills.

She went on to reassure me: "I am a big believer in mindset, and if you think you can do it you can.  Really!"

Really?

No, not really.

This is the gorgeous result of just a few hours and some paint.

If you're talented.

Overconfidence will not produce this.

Trust me.

The project was then nicely laid out -- step by step -- with pictures which instructed me to free hand the trees.  FREE HAND?  I know I have been going on about lust and all, but seriously? Free hand?

There had to be another way.

Stencils. 

Yeah, baby! All I need to do is pick fabulous paint colors and start dabbing. Free hand my ass.

Wish me luck.

If the result isn't absolutely horrifying, resulting in a divorce or something, I will post pictures of my artistic endeavor. 

YES, HAPPY FRIDAY!

Love -- LOVE -- the picture of peonies (one of my favorite flowers) at Caitlin's blog, Sacramento Street. Gorgeous!

FABULOUS!

The Peak of Chic highlights the Atlanta Decorators' Show House.  Absolutely gorgeous. My only negative comment? A library with no books and no bookcases. I really am annoyed when the purpose of the entire room is forgotten for the design. Seems entirely pointless...but that's just me....

THE LIBRARY SANS BOOKS

Anyway, the rooms are divine.

THERE. I FIXED IT.

After concerted effort on my part, the look of the blog is finally finished. For now. I think. Maybe. But I'm not making any promises things will stay the way they are...

A MAN OF TRUE STYLE

Albert Hadley, who, along with Sister Parish, operated one of the most prestigious and successful interior design firms in the country, died yesterday in Nashville, TN.  His rooms were instantly recognizable, infused with a remarkable combination of distinctive flair and inviting warmth.  You WANTED to be there, to step into his rooms, to sink into the down cushions of a sofa and talk all night over cocktails.

RIP.