I DIDN’T ACCOMPLISH TOO MUCH THIS WEEKEND outside the house. There’s been a ton of things I’ve wanted to jazz up around my home, and finally made time to do so. For example, the towels. Every time I was in the bathroom I thought, ‘There’s too many g’d stripes in here.’ So I replaced them with solid ones, and now don’t get as much of a headache.
So the towels weren’t the only thing I fixed. I finagled with the living room, kitchen, and entryway, too. I can’t believe I haven’t posted anything yet, being that this is my first home* and all. I’m all about cozy.
I should give a bit of background on the house before I go any further. Built in 1912, our house is undeniably the oldest settlement on the block. Everything surrounding us is at least 50 years younger and six times more attractive, and everyone else has kids, pets, etc. (whereas we are kids and pets). There are three bedrooms, two baths, and one garage stall that stores such things as bikes with flat tires, and occasionally doubles as my workshop.
The house has undergone a series of renovations throughout the years, most of which are painfully obvious: Kitchen (50’s), wood paneling (70’s), addition to back of house (80’s), kitchen laminate and carpeting (90’s), new refrigerator (oo’s). It’s a regular Frankenhouse, the potpourri of decades. The only thing that feels true to 1912 are the door knobs — of about two rooms.
We’ve no dishwasher, a fireplace that’s functionally functionless, and three-season carpeting on our “dining room” floor. Our only shower is reminiscent of my freshman dorms’, the equivalent of being shoved into a wet locker. There’s a washer/dryer in the basement, along with a primative deep freeze that could potentially house a body (or be the body of another house). And with all the shelving units and cabinets, I wouldn’t be surprised if, in fact, it’s history includes a morgue.
But really, it’s a lovely place that we’ve made more lovely. I’d venture to say that it’s “cute as a button” — well, when the sink isn’t overflowing with dirty dishes.
Here you go:
A: The entryway room that doesn’t have a proper name. Every time my sister and I refer to this room, we don’t know what to call it. “That…room when you walk into the house” “The doorway” “That one room.” It’s a weird room because it was clearly added onto the house circa 19seventysomething. This weekend I sprayed the chandelier—a curbside find—and created some candles for it. I scraped together a bunch of vintage necklaces that I scarcely wear and strung them among the fixture, then tediously hung it from a small loop in the ceiling (fingers crossed). It’s unfortunate that it’s not functional, but I still think it looks interesting—and interesting is what I aim for!
The chair on the left is a work in progress. I found it on the curb a few weeks ago and recently ripped off the old upholstry, and began to reupholster it with some fun authentic retro fabric (never used, that I picture sat in an old woman’s sewing room for years). I ran out of staples mid-project, and haven’t finished yet…
The green ottoman is also another (unfinished) curbside find. I’m still debating how to revamp it; no matter, the chair comes first.
The blue chair was a sweet find this weekend. My sister and I found it while thrifting and split it’s $10 price tag. I ripped the skirt off (I’m anti-skirtonfurniture) and am hoping to sew a few pillowcases to complement the blue (yellow and red perhaps?). The room still needs some funky curtains; artwork; and a nice, round area rug to pull everything together. Works. In. Progress.
2: Living room. This room confuses me to no end, because the layout and division of space make it hard to work with. Simply put, it’s awkward. It doesn’t help when you have a giant, fat television, either (placed in the half of the room I chose not to photograph, because it’s nothing to see).
What’s unfortunate about this room is it’s lack of lighting. The ambiance is fantastic during the day with natural lighting, but there are no fixtures. I’ve been searching for the perfect table—or floor—lamp for a month now with zero luck. I am planning to construct a paper chandelier for this room (there are no means to suspend a heavy metal one from this ceiling); in the meantime, I’ve hung a decorative tissue blob for some excitement/color.
Most importantly in this room, however, the couch needs a serious makeover. My sister bought it on Craig’s List last fall and tossed some questionable sheets on it to make it look presentable. This generally doesn’t fly in my book, unless they’re tasteful sheets that are tactfully adhered to the surface at hand—which in this case, they’re not.
This is my favorite sight to see when I walk into the house. Everything aside from the two pillows on the chair and the floor lamp has been thrifted and revamped. I bought a lot of frames at the beginning of the month and have been gradually making them friendlier via spray paint + attractive images (most from magazines). I’m looking for several logs for the fauxplace (that’s a fake fireplace, folks)—I’m going to paint them white. No luck on that yet.
This window is a curious characteristic of our living room. It looks into “that one room when you walk into the house.” I love that it frames my new chandelier. Love to my mother for sewing all the pillowcases on our couch.
iii: Dining.
I see so much potential in this space, but am having a really hard time getting over the fact that the owner decided to tack indoor/outdoor carpet over the BEAUTIFUL hardwood floors that lie beneath it (believe me, I’ve peeled back a corner and looked into the situation.) I’m about $200 and a weekend away from renting a sander and doing the floor job myself. Then I remember that would be CRAZY because a) I don’t own the place, 2) I’m not going to own the place and 3) I’ve got bigger fish to fry in my bright world (e.g. figuring out how to camouflage the carpet). Something tells me I’m taking this way too seriously. You’d be right—I am.
The table was pulled from our morgue basement, and being that we couldn’t locate a pink tablecloth, it’s covered with a shower curtain to look pretty/functional. The dresser is metal—and heavier than a mother. It once belonged to my uncle, who sprayed it the awesome red-orange it is today. This evening I finished framing the artwork setting on it, a book cover from a Jack Kerouac read I bought in Italy (the text is all Italian!), set in a $2 frame. Bingo.
Our built-in cabinetry is a true gem in the house—and so much that I’ve not figured out what to do with!
These kitchen curtains where my half-off Labor day sale find at a thrift store (though sales at thrift stores seem like an oxymoron…or something.) I had to cut them in about 13 different directions and make new loopholes in them in order to fit our window.
So there you have it, my so-called life played out in textiles, metals, and fluffy tissue blobs. The best part is, I’m okay with it.
Now…come visit!
Until the next renovation,
jc
*And by “first home”, I mean the first time I haven’t lived in the dorms. About time.
approximatelyes.com 