In the end I always win!

My husband and I have quite different tastes when it comes to decorating. We both care for fine workmanship of our wooden items -- high boys, dressers, buffets, armoires, etc... In fact, he probably cares more than I do. When we shop for furniture together he examines just how each corner, each drawer, each foot is attached and assembled. I'm more simple. If it's not ridiculously out of my price range and doesn't look like it will collapse I'll buy it. Over the years I have gotten used to daddy getting down on the ground, on all fours, etc. We've never bought a piece of furniture both of us doesn't love. This applies to beds and couches as well. We've done well and he knows his stuff. We'll never pay top dollar or full price. For antiques we go to places off the beaten path. For newer items we look for sales and bargains and my husband tirelessly researches any item prior to purchase. I'm used to my mother with her laisser-faire attitude. If it's cheap and looks nice it's perfect. Ok, not for everything, but for some things this really does ring true.

My grandmother, Bettina, was the same way. She would have scoffed at the Vikings and Jenn-Airs and Wolfs of today. The same wonderful pieces I covet and drool over. I am shallow. Terribly shallow. My grandmother had her Magic Chef (I believe that was the brand) stoves and refrigerators. She drove, well her chauffeurs drove, Ford Escorts and finally she upgraded to a Volkswaggen Passat when I was a good bit older. Her cars were small, tinny and economical. It's what one drove in Europe where the price of petrol was through the roof even when ours was reasonable. It always struck me as funny to see my grandmother perfectly dressed and coiffed like Coco herself, with her driver in full uniform to emerge from a black Ford Escort! (In Italy they had a no frills chocolate brown one. Stick shift. I remember my grandfather, whose driving terrified me on even the flattest and straightest of surfaces, racing down the hills of their little town in Umbria, Citta della Pieve. I remember thinking each and every time we went up and down that twisty turny mountain that we were going to go over and die. Like Princess Grace. But I was no Princess, and I was no royal and so my death would be terribly unglamourous!) And I digress...

My mother is the same way with her kitchen appliances. She shops at Sears. Buys the Kenmore brand. Just replaced her dishwasher then had a painter paint it black for her. Seriously, I think she ended up paying more by purchasing the paint and the painter. But the apple don't fall far for the tree in this case. My Jolie Grandmere actually painted the television set in her bedroom pink! I kid you not! How I wish I had a picture of that. But as daring as I am with color, that is extreme even for moi!

But I don't think my husband will ever get that image of the bubble gum pink television out of his mind. I think he's afraid I will pull a fast one! The men in my family have never expressed an interest in decorating. My husband has been very hard to work with. Ok not very hard, but I've had to run everything by him. This was understandable in the old house. When we moved there 11 years ago I was pregnant with my first child and we barely had two pennies to rub together. He did all the painting himself. So of course I would let him approve of the colors. He was skeptical of some, but in the end he knew I was right. Our dining room was Merlot. (Yes yes, I know, how fitting!) Our kitchen was a pale, buttery yellow. The bathroom off the kitchen was a sagey green and more pale yellow (like pale lemon) on the family room walls. Went well with the deep green furniture we no longer have. The living room remained white. The most boring room in house. We chose periwinkle for the Master Bedroom, blue for Christopher's room and Rebecca's was magical, with a different bright pastel on each wall!

And so we come to the new house. I thought I would have a lot more freedom to pick and choose my colors. But that pink painted television set must sill be etched in his memory. Last year we repainted our Dining Room and Living Rooms. Both rooms needed a great deal of work and we could only afford to paint those two. There was a mantel to restore with marble that had been covered with paint to resemble faux marble. Can you imagine! And poster board wall paper to come down. And the most offensive the red and green plaid on the Dining Room walls... with bunting and all!

(Daddy painted the kids rooms himself. Yes, even Rebecca's Key Lime colored walls and Alexander's bright red one!)

When he saw my idea, and then saw the final outcome. He started to back down a little bit. He's a bit more trusting, though a bit more conservative. (My living room, for example, is Navajo beige, antique white trim and a pale blue cieling. I could have totally done something more risque, like a purple or a salmon colored cieling!)

I'm a classic girl who likes a little bit flair and whimsy combined with a little European elegance. After all, life can never be taken too seriously. And I certainly never take myself too seriously! I like to keep it simple with clean lines and minimal clutter. I joke with Daddy, I'll have my purple room with my next husband, I kid!

He's given me the go ahead to do as I wish. I promise not to upset him, but he has to trust me and have a little faith. The only room still in question at this point is the kitchen. We had discussed yellow. Nice clean, sunny yellow. And while I love the color I want something else in that room. I need just a little more flair. I need a little more punch, panache. I'm going with green. But the trouble is I'm still uncertain as to which green. I would love a citrusy green, but it is a bit bright for my color-timid husband. I'll decide. I have to as the kitchen has been prepped and they will start later today. I'm off to Benjamin Moore in search of ... a Gimlet Green perhaps?!




The kitchen, deconstructed...


Dinner... the Beaujolais Nouveau complimented the Subway subs beautifully! Coffee for dessert.








Dining room becomes storage room...


Foyer becomes another storage room.


Nothing at all like the Queen's Loo!







My grandmother's cookbooks all boxed up and stored in the office.

The house is a mess... and I really, really, really am fighting my urge to break out the vacuum!