When I was a kid a favorite activity of mine was drawing up floor plans of my future home, which was obviously going to be a sprawling Victorian mansion full of hidden nooks and chintz/an ultra-modern city loft with laddered bookshelves and a Pee-Wee-Herman-inspired fireman’s pole. My current dwelling is…well, neither of these things. Which means I have just as much house lust now. Also, I’ve been spending a LOT of time in the apartment lately, which is kind of like taking a long road trip with a friend: you thought you liked her when you started, but by Pennsylvania you’ve compiled a long list of her many personality flaws.
That’s okay though, since as I’m always telling Harper (“Why don’t we have pretend cake instead!”), imagination can be a powerful force. Unfortunately my childhood design-indecisiveness prevails, so I can’t even comfortably furnish my dream home with any aesthetic certainty. Which may explain some things. Anyway, since I can’t quite choose between my city mouse and country mouse tendencies, let’s settle for a quaint house in the middle of the city, Margaret Wise Brown-style. This one (via the NYPL Flickr stream ) is in Brooklyn Heights, or at least it was in 1936:
Okay. I know my mother will chide me for even fantasizing about owning an old home but let’s say this one was just completely but sensitively updated right before we moved in.
Here’s my kitchen (from a domino magazine story about Blonde Redhead that I’ve been obsessed with for years). Don’t you love how bright and airy it is, with that perfect mix of vintagey elements? Don’t you love how even in my fantasies I can’t imagine a large kitchen? Also, in my dream house I am not allergic to cats, who lounge about on various surfaces like animated pillows.
Oh, and check out my bathroom, as featured on design*sponge. Also so airy and bright! Hm, I guess I do see a bit of a theme. Anyway. Look at that sink! Can you imagine the bathtub? Imagine it. In this world, the towels are always white and stacked perfectly. They do it by themselves.
My bedroom is pretty special, too. Just like all the interiors in the gorgeous movie Bright Star. Bright and light and occasionally filled with butterflies. Perfect for lots of uninterrupted languid daydreaming in beautiful dresses. As is my way.
Or wait. Maybe it’s lush and dim and antiquey, packed with interesting things to look at and many books within easy reach. Like this one from Cake in Bed:
Okay, no, I got it. Bright and cheerful, but still crammed with copious bookshelving. via Apartment Intervention.
Anyway, one thing I know for sure is that the kids’ room(s?) would definitely be colorful and friendly and full of beautiful, whimsical things found on weekend jaunts to perfect, hidden antique stores located on country roads right next to homemade pie stands that somehow no one else in New York knows about but that are not so far from the city that you get stuck in traffic coming back on Sunday night and can’t find a parking spot. Ahem. Like look at this charming nursery! From, of course, Ohdeedoh.
I am really pushing it here, timewise. Think these kids will nap much longer? Let’s give them a perfectly organized toy nook full of handsome wooden toys, as a thank you for napping at the same time. Just like the one on Oh Happy Day.
Finally, let’s not forget to replace all the weird piles of unopened mail and diapers of mysterious provenance with lovely, spare vignettes, ala Sarah McColl of Pink of Perfection‘s.
Now all we need are some trees outside the window, a good record playing, a couple of kids frolicking around, maybe an over-exuberant mutt… oh wait.
I know, I know. Home is where the, etc.