We all buy mistakes and they are so easy to dwell on. When I moved into my house, with it's lovely bones and its shit interiors, we made mistakes we are still living with (like putting lame carpet in upstairs...).
But I was thinking today about homes and why it all matters. Actually, I was thinking, "What an interesting day... a blog I started as a lark is getting a lot of traffic now."
And then I was also thinking, "My fiance must think this is all really stupid. I mean - who the hell wastes time writing about decor?"
And then I was thinking about Deborah Needleman and the Domino dustup. And what I settled on was this: we love the same thing. We love the idea that home and identity (for a certain class) is tied together. That it really does matter, for better or worse. It's some kind of expression. And when we get it right, it's happiness.
My favorite room is a jumble of wreckage and castoffs. I like this room most, I realized today, because it never mattered. it's a personal room; it's not meant for guests to hang out in. In it I have a fake-Saarinen low-table I found for $75 at a flea market. A $25 chippy dresser that I prop a mirror on and use every morning as I put on my war paint (lipgloss and mascara) to face the day. A $20 aluminum garden chair that serves as a dumping ground for dirty clothes and piles of magazines I plan to get through. A funny teal French bergere that I bought from a nice artist off Craigslist that I hope to recover, but know will sit untouched for 6 months before I have the time to fix it.
These are things I don't regret buying. I could spend my time worrying about decorating mistakes, but I grow more sure and stubborn about the things I like every year. I like the cheap stuff the most. The vintage paintings, the wobbly wooden table we use to prop up flowers in the lonely staircase landing; I love the photography, like the one up top (by Chad States) because it's the kind of thing that keeps a Tudor from feeling like and uptight BBC devotee. Despite all the things we need to fix here, there is good stuff. Stuff that makes it feel like home. Good things we scored that we will just never part with.
What are the things you don't regret buying? Do you have an impulse or a splurge-y thing you acquired that has stood by you and made you happy ever since? I want to hear about it.