Some of you may call it orange. Some may call it red. I'm calling it rust -- still the object of my lust.
Happy weekend, blog buddies. Thank bejeebus, it's going to be a long one.
Lusty Rusty
When I was a kid, my mom decorated with the holy trifecta of rust, pale green and gold. I was fairly annoyed that these colors did not coordinate with my pink and purple Duran Duran posters, nor did they properly accent my door sized blow up of George Michael looking all careless and whispery (this would not be the last time my gaydar failed me... thanks a lot, raging hormones). Anyway, I kind of hated the endless seas of rust carpet. I hated my rust floral wallpaper. I hated rust. But you know what -- something is happening to me. Perhaps my taste in color has matured, much like my taste in music and men. Perhaps I actually like rust.
It's like my mom decorated this room, minus the requisite momtastic damask.
Oh yes. Rusty red + inky teal + pale purple. Did I just type those words together?
At Anthropologie here.
At Overstock here (don't let the styling burn your retinas).
You know you like it.
[Elle Decor, AD Russia]