I have absolute confidence in my ability to dress myself. I owe a lot of the positive results to my stylist buddy Sam, but I think I also inherited the elegant-and-fashionable-with-touches-of-original gene from my mom. However, when it comes to dressing my nest, my faith in my taste has always flown right out the window.
I’ve wanted to be creative. Different. I’ve wanted people to walk into my home and be dazzled by what they see, but I’ve always been just a little bit afraid to let go. Until recently.
I’ve been collaborating on two design books with women whose talents and taste are off the chart. They’ve taught me a lot, particularly how to access the brave-and-daring me who lives somewhere behind a tree in the neighborhood of the I’m-terrified-to-try-this me. The b-and-d me went out and bought a quart of very orange paint and did this:
And I love it. I think it’s the perfect background for all the design books I’ve been collecting to inspire me for future projects.
Now that I have a single success to my credit, I’m on a roll. As I type, the second coat of paint in the most amazing shade of kiwi is drying on the family-room walls.
Trace and Kristan, you would be proud. (I hope…)