House renovations can sound the death knell of even the strongest of marriages, because the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And the bodies of spouses that didn’t fucking listen. Lucky or not, our house is not in need of renovating, but it has had some hardware updates and even those were pains in the marital backside. We think *fingers, toes, arms, legs and eyes crossed* that we won’t need to change anything on our house for a little while. But of course the walls of our house had been painted by great swathes of dogshit shortly before we moved in, so we have been of one mind – lucky him – to paint the whole house at some point. There have been various points over the past year, and there is little left to do. The boys’ bedroom upstairs will be last; I am currently working on the “Peacock Bathroom” and the “Hawaiian Bathroom” downstairs. I like naming stuff, if anyone is wondering.
The Peacock Bathroom will be the same colour as the dining room chairs and the Peacock sofa, which is just around the corner, so it should tie together nicely. The Hawaiian Bathroom has photos from our trips there, and I have been trying to match the wall to the idea of humidity in a room full of Bird of Paradise flowers, and the leis that you receive everytime you turn around whilst visiting there.
The first attempt, Fuscia Kiss, was too barbie for Husband; that was when he told me he didn’t like the idea of a pink bathroom. In a house full of dudes, I have done very well to decorate the house with (what I think is) good taste sans girly frills, so we can all suffer a pink bathroom, I think, i.e. bad luck. The 2nd attempt, Exotic Bloom, was quite a bold shade, but again, too pink. Today I tried to veer to the purple side with the 3rd shade, Orchid Kiss, but it seems a muted pink again, there on the left. So the winner is there on the right hand side, Exotic Bloom. In comparison to the kisses, it is the right shade of boldness combined with the right amount of pizazz, and that is exactly what our house needs, as we feel it lacks character.
Perhaps some people would think my decorator tips are over the top, but to them I say “I care not for Miami gold or burnished bronze light switches”. Yet others would say that I should sell off what I rip out, because “someone probably paid through the nose for that kind of ugly”. That is sage advice, and yet it would not bridge the gap between my champagne taste and lemonade income. Husband would scoff and splutter at lemonade, but I do have fabulous taste.