Disintegration

For a while now, I have been noticing that the beautiful Indian pulkhari textile on my bed is fading.  The background color has gone from a vibrant coral to a faded orange, and the embroidery has simply disintegrated, one color at a time.  (It still had some blue here, and lots of pink, here.)  At first, I sort of vaguely suspected that it was changing, and then, all of a sudden, it became very clear when I posted an old photograph from my bedroom in the same post as a current picture, but the damage was already done.

This is one of those things about decorating: it is not forever.  Organic materials change.  Use wears away at things.  Buttons pop on upholstery, kids leave stains, pets scratch floors and furniture.  Even if you decorate appropriately for your lifestyle, nothing stays pristine.

I absolutely believe in using what you have.  Our wedding china is very expensive, but I would rather use it and delight in it, even if it means chips or even a broken dish here or there, than leave it on the shelf.  Having that textile on our bed was one of my favorite vignettes in the house.  It made me think of the store where I bought it--now defunct--and the early days of my brother and sister-in-laws relationship (she was with my mom and I shopping, and spotted the textile first.)  It reminded me of Clio's tiny toddler room in Brooklyn.  For a while, I let it fade because using it made me happy.

But then I freaked out and moved it to a chair, still in the room but out of the line of direct sunlight.

And I tell myself that it is good to move things around and keep it loose.

Tell me: Have you loved and lost any precious objects?  My heart broke a little when one of my daughters knocked over a ginger jar at my mom's, left to her by my grandmother.  But of course life goes on.

Know Thyself: Living with kids, pets, and your own personality

One thing that has really struck me the more I work with people on their homes is the idiosynchratic nature of our wants, needs, and pet peeves.  It makes me think about furnishings a little differently:

Will the high back of this sofa keep the boys from jumping over it?
Are the flourishes in this chandelier going to be hard to clean?
Is this coffee table sturdy enough for two children to use it as a stage?
What will happen to this rug when a cat throws up on it?

These questions may not apply to you (lord knows I didn't think about dusting when I bought a chandelier made of 200 paper flowers!), but you surely have your own special needs when it comes to your home.

I was chatting with a showroom rep yesterday, and he told me about a wing chair of his grandmother's that he kept sentimentally and made over in super expensive fabric.  Every time he looks at it, it makes him happy, but he knows some people would look at it and just think about how much they paid for the fabric.

Sometimes, people don't even know what is important to them (or what they don't like) until I show them something that won't work for them, like the client who didn't know she hated white leather until I suggested it for her dining room.   Same goes for price point.  Even if money is no object (ha!), its possible you just can't abide spending that much on that item--custom sheets, high end fabric, what have you.  I can take pets and kids and climate and budget into consideration, but only you can know that you just can't deal with vintage upholstery, or that you are not going to stop eating in front of the TV, so your family room set up better hide crumbs.

I always tell my clients there is nothing wrong with any of these choices.  You run into a problem when you try to pretend, in decorating your home, that you are different than you are.