I have a rich fantasy life. The kind of rich that’s stupid. I flip through the pages of magazines, and Instagram feeds shopping with my eyes and my heart until my virtual cart tippeth over. If that is where it stayed, I be a wealthy girl…I can’t help but think of Gwen Stefani’s song – Rich Girl.
“If I was a rich girl (na, na) See, I’d have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl No man could test me, impress me, my cash flow would never ever end Cause I’d have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl”
Left: Blue Print Store . Dallas . TX displaying Quadrille . China Seas . Sigourney. Right Top: Same in Ziggy Blue on White. Right Bottom: Custom Sisal.
Alas, I am not so I am imagining very, very hard, what it would feel like to have a whole house of my own. What it would look like on the outside (white with black shutters and a fire engine red front door, or would it Robin’s Egg Blue or a deep Violet)? Whatever color I chose for that front door, it would be painted in oil, coat after thick silky coat until it shined like a freshly washed Ferrari straight from the dealership. The planters on the front porch would have Boxwoods that had been clipped and manicured to circular perfection, and just beyond the shell drive you’d spy the pool house. It would be an extensive of the main house, but with an escapist feel that immediately comes to mind when you think of a house that was designed specifically for a pool. Can you say rich?
It’s not secret that I am more comfortable in small places. They suit me. When I look at a mansion all I can think of is, how in the heck would I clean that thing? The dust bunnies that pile up in my mind start to freak me out. Far better to live in a place that you can manage on your own. That is of course if you are a control freak like me and also not …. I think you know what I am going to say – flush with excess cash.
I want to spend those ducats on custom flooring, on stunning tile, on wall covering for my dressing area, on curtains, the cost of which you could trade for a ball gown – and not for any old charity event, for a king or a queen’s coronation ball. Got the picture now? Good – dream a little dream with me.
Photographers live for “the golden hour” that time of day when the light is glowy and romantic, and casts a shimmer and sparkle on those that are bathed in it. It’s sequins and fireworks, and candle light. It’s dew drops, and effervescence, and youthful sleepiness. It’s first bloom, it’s a Florence skyline, it’s perfection. I want perfection for a moment. There…I said it. I want it in that moment when the light sheds years from your world weary skin, and plumps your heart to overflowing with happiness and possibility.
I think I may be on my way to achieving it in my living room. I went for the pastels and the peaches, the blush and palest of the cream white tones. I blanketed it in a backdrop of Benjamin Moore Sand Dollar. (oh Ben, we’ll get to you tomorrow – you’ve stepped up your game yet again – how you do please me).
Pastel puddles under toe (not to be confused with undertow which sweeps you along and spits you out if you know how to work with it, or has disastrous ramifications, if you don’t) We won’t think about that now. We’ll think about the luscious Landry and Arcari Turkish Oushak that tickles my toes, and my fancy all at the same time. Though I wasn’t sure it achieved my bright side fantasies, it is well suited to the setting and I have grown very fond of it.
Achieving lighting levels that will flatter you and your guests require some simple rules of thumb.
Bulbs: Say no to Florescent, yes to LED, and don’t be afraid to strategically employ soft pink bulbs,
Dimmers: yes please – have an Electrician install them everywhere, variety is key to achieving a sultry smolder or a blushy beam,
In-direct: keep them guessing. From what point does the light emanate? Hide it behind a plant, beneath a molding, allow it to splash a wall or painting rather than direct it’s beam toward some Bell in a Ballgown.
Oomph Slipper . Bungalow5 Side Table . L & A . Turkish Oushak
I’ll be bringing back an Electrician – a fourth time. There’s work to do yet, but my furnishings and art are working hard to do their part.
Go ahead, make me. I’ve had a fondness for pink for ages. Long before this most recent obsession that has everyone from restaurants to upscale homes crushing on this pretty pastel. I painted my bedroom pink in my second property and loved how it made me feel. The soft complimentary light, the calming effect it has after a dusty day that tried its darnedest to make you into a dull girl. It brings a little rose to the cheek. It makes your lips curl up just a bit at the edge. Men don’t have to admit to liking it, but I know many do.
Sketch . London – 2 of those chairs arriving today in pale cream!
Today, my beyond fabulous painting that I purchased from Blue Print Store in Dallas will arrive here in Boston after its stopover in New Orleans. Don’t ask, I just request they tell me when to be there to receive it.
Blue Print Store . Dallas . TX – Stephanie Shank Artist
Runway . Right way.
Kid Gloves will be knocking on the door between 2 – 5pm and guess what colors they will be delivering? Pink, and blue, and mint, and peach, and red, and black, and my steady and enduring lovely…gray. This painting will be the centerpiece of my next project. Tink (that’s my sister) told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t to buy any new furniture for this one…I crossed my fingers when I promised I wouldn’t. Really, aside from me going broke and having to live with her when I am old and gray, what could she possibly have in which to object? She is the happy recipient of many of my cast offs. The Surf Shack has my beautiful apple green lamps from One King’s Lane adorning the matching Bungalow 5 white dressers, and complimenting the organdy tray ceiling accent color and Designer’s Guild striped curtains. Come to think of it my little Omph slipper chair from Charlestown is in that bedroom too. I’ve been thinking about re-upholstering my 6 month old day bed from Restoration Hardware and making it a centerpiece of her living room – another project I am working on for her now. I digress.
Saltie Girl . Back Bay . Boston – @christiano336
Back to the super hot topic of this really warm color. Pink. Is it dangerous to paint a living room in this hue. I’ve been dying to…do just that. I saw a sweet little property yesterday that I allowed my imagination to go wild with a redesign. A good sign that I have a fondness for the place. It’s been well loved over the years (read: super warn and in need of some TLC). Until I find a boyfriend, I have plenty to spare, and want to put it to good use. An offer will go in.
Featured in Domino Mag – back in the day.
Seems like I am doing a lot of finger crossing these days. If it chooses me, I just may have to engage in a “Blush with Danger”. Would you do it? Paint a living room pink? Would you object if I did? Please do tell.
When I sold my first house, I promptly turned around and took two suitcases and headed to Switzerland and then the South of France. It was two weeks of train rides, boat excursions, long car rides in traffic crossing from one country into another, and the celebration of a friends significant “round birthday” as a dear colleague of mine likes to refer to changes in decades. I can tell you exactly what I read: Night Film by Marisha Pessl, the Heidi-eque hillsides, and goats weighed down by cow bells, I can recall the wine bar in Geneva with a big smile on my face, the bats flying overhead while dining outdoors gazing at the Riviera below. I can remember all this, but whole years are a blur to me. It’s moments like these that mark time, and force it to stand still. It is one of the reasons, I buy and sell, uprooting at a constant, and frenetic pace. It’s these moments that mark time.
At last … Soft Thunder … Stephanie Shank en route to Boston.
This flip, I am allowing myself to buy a painting that I have been wanting with a baited breath anticipation, ringed in a panic that someone else would buy it before I was able. Wrong really to want a material thing so much you dream of it. But Stephanie Shank – the Artist articulates the why of this haunting need. Her art isn’t about some acquisition, some painting on a wall, it’s the embodiment of “raw emotion and the power of now”. Yes, that’s what I’m buying….or I admit, without any guilt whatsoever – have already purchased. It’s called “Soft Thunder” which is a title that suits me. I’m all about the oxymoron. I live in contradictions. Why would anyone want to be stamped with just one label—so boringly limiting, don’t you think?
I can really fall into this painting. It will be both the inspiration and the centerpiece of my next project. Though I have never met Stephanie before, she creates her art in Arizona and I stumbled across it in Dallas, and it will find its way back to me via New Orleans. Don’t ask. If there was a straightforward way of doing something, I’d likely avoid it. Nonetheless, I’d like to believe that it would please Stephanie that her vivid brushstrokes and passionate use of deep hues will serve as my muse. So the planning begins.