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Lowdown on the Slowdown

Last night Ben sat me down and said something to the effect of, Honey — I think you have a  problem. Except that’s not exactly what he said, because husbands who call their wives Honey are kinda icky. Anyway, how dare he criticize my obsessive need to endlessly repaint swatches on the wall, my 800 trips to return failed curtains, my seeming inability to make a single decision on my own?

How dare he care about my happiness?

I must admit to getting a little caught up in timetables, in the hormonal rush of nesting on the clock. And like some commenters noted yesterday, rushing has definitely brought on mistakes — nothing catastrophic or terribly expensive yet, but mistakes nonetheless.

I also admit to enjoying decorating as a spectator sport. I LOVE showing you guys what I’m working on, but it’s pretty grueling to turn something out once a week. Or even once a month.

Add to this the fact that even the pros disagree on decorating “rules” (have you seen House Beautiful’s 101 Decorator Secrets? SO MANY of them directly contradict each other. Awesome!), and I find myself rudderless, aswim at sea. Too few parameters and too many variables.

I like order, dammit. Tidiness. Mathematical certainty, objective truth. That may seem a little weird for someone schooled in the arts, but I will remind you that photography is filled with mathematical formulae and sciencey stuff. I love the unbroken line of cause and effect. I struggle against the nihilism of anything goes.

Order. Symmetry. Complementary. Happy.

So I will busy myself with finding a way to work, because I do enjoy solving problems (and trust me — my patchwork paint swatched bedroom of horror IS a problem), but forgive me if my updates come a little fewer and further between.

Things will get done, but perhaps progress will happen on a more geologic scale.

Also I am tired and huge and the baby is punching my cervix 24/7.

That’ll slow a girl down, too.

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I’m Not Dead. I’m Just Pregnant.

Everyone knows it’s bad luck to announce a pregnancy before the end of the first trimester, but here I am. Throwing caution to the wind. I may indeed end up birthing a three headed, chimeric monster. Or perhaps I may end up with no baby at all. But if that happens, I can think of no better people to share it with than you. All thousands of you.


When Karly and I started this endeavor 800 years ago, I never imagined that people would be the coolest thing about blogging. But you are, and I just want to say thanks for reading. In return I am going to try rully hard to whip my lazy ass into shape (not literally – those days are now long gone) and show you some updates. Because guess what? I have to decorate this entire house in 6ish months.

Yep. That means I have to give up my beloved Pawn Stars and Downton Abbey marathons, stop eating so much Costco ice cream (THE BEST), and fight the overwhelming urge to fall asleep at odd times and places.

Instead I’m going to have to do more of this:

And this:

And this:

Wish me luck.

[Pamplemousse, Miles Redd, AD Russia]

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Bedtime Story

Yesterday I regaled you with exasperating tales of bedding shopping and decor waffling. Let’s back track to the beginning of this convoluted plot arc, shall we? For over a month now a new bedroom plan has been percolating, largely inspired by Karly’s suggestion to use a wicker screen as a headboard for our hulking king size bed — our bed for which an inexpensive, conventional headboard cannot be found. I mean seriously, could Ikea not make this dumb bed in a king? Could West Elm not make prettier beds? Could craigslist not throw me a vintage bone instead of listing after listing of gross Haverty’s sleigh beds?

Apparently they cannot. And I can’t find a wicker screen large enough to stretch behind our ginormous, now white be-duveted king bed, heretofore known as Moby Dick. Pun intended.

Anyway, here’s what I’m thinking. Sort of.

I mean, how could I go wrong with a Miles Redd inspired room, featuring an awesome vintage screen as my bedding focal point?

Here’s how: I have two big windows behind my bed. They are ruining my life.

So, if I use a normal size screen, then I am effectively blocking our beautiful windows. And while the mole in me approves of this idea, the sunnier, sparklier me knows it’s dumb.

Even though that’s exactly what’s going on in this picture. Surprise! There’s a window behind the bed! Yeah, I’m not fooled, either. Plus our wall is much, much longer than this one.

What I really need is a low, long screen that won’t completely cover the window wall. And this entire bedroom. Hot diggity dog.

This screen would also do.

Because the necessary dimensions are so particular (at least 72″ wide, and rib cage height), I’m thinking about buying one of these blank canvas screens and recovering it:

This is exactly what I suggested Elissa do when she wrote in for decorating advice, so I’m not sure how it’s taken this long for me to apply the solution to my own conundrum… I’m really not too bright.

Anyway, I like the idea that this plan would allow me to pick a nutty fabric, and my white duvet and neutral wall paint will be totally understanding and supportive. Plus, it would be easy to change up the scheme when I tire of it, which will probably be about three seconds after I finish the project.

Now, I just need to commit, pick a fabric, and decide what to do about my window treatments… curtains? Roman shades? Scrap this whole idea and waffle some more?

The forum is open to suggestions.

[Miles Redd, Michael S. Smith, Trad Home, House Beautiful x 2]

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Mini Quandary — Patterned Sofas, Yes or No?

I’ve kind of always wanted a crazy, patterned couch in colors that would make grandma blush. But would today’s favored pattern become tomorrow’s mauve and teal flamestitch? Oh wait… that’s coming back, right?

Hot damn, not bad. I think I’d even like it in teal.

Anyway, what do we think? Balls out, all over upholstery, like only Miles Redd can bring it:

Or could we cheat a bit and maybe just tuck a blanket into the seat cushion to create some interest:

Can I tell you how much I love everything in this picture? Love. This is my Acid Wasp wet dream.

I may or may not be obsessed with contrasting patterns. Am I? Do you feel the need to save me from myself, or to egg me on?

So is the blanket thing too messy? Or is it ever worth the splurge to just upholster the whole couch in a pattern? I’m a little scared things could veer into Buatta territory. And expensive, I-redecorate-every-five-minutes territory. Still, wouldn’t it be fun to do it up righteous?

Can you tell I’m super sick of having leather couches???

Happy Monday, folks. It’s going to be a good week. Or else.

[1st Dibs, House Beautiful via, AD, Lonny]

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It’s So Easy Being Green

I told everyone I was a leprechaun when I was little younger. I might have been overreaching a tiny bit. On the other hand, perhaps I truly am descended from the wee folk. Let’s review the facts: I am so short that I wear a size 5 shoe. I have funny pointed ears. I look fabulous in emerald green. My name is Erin and my mother was an O’Connor. Oh, and I love gold. A lot. Let’s just agree (for today, after which time I will pretend this never happened) that I might have a bit of the magic so that I can shower you with some luck o’ the Irish.

Nuevo Estilo via Nero Chronicles

Molly Luetkemeyer

Florence Lopez

Miles Redd for Oscar de la Renta

It just wouldn’t be a St. Patrick’s Day post without a pot of gold shimmering at the end of the rainbow…

Dolce and Gabbana certainly know how to bring on the bullion.

And now I impishly decree it to be drinky o’clock.

Go chug some green beer and get liquored up!

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