A Room Of One's Own

A very wise woman (okay my mom) gave me some sage advice when I moved into my house. Decorate one room completely right off the bat. That way no matter what disarray you find in the other hundred corners you will have one place that is neat, clean, relaxing and done. While my first instinct is always to do the opposite of what my mother tells me (though 99% of the time she is right) this time I listened and I am so glad I did. The picture above is my inspiration for my living room. The combination of celery green textiles, crisp blue walls, tarnished gold accents and bare wooden floorboards sums up my favorite aesthetics to a T.

Unfortunately my bank account has taken a severe battering since I signed over my life and three unborn children to the mortgage company but thanks to local antique shops, heavenly Homegoods, some beautiful original crown molding, an amazing paint job by my father, and a hodgepodge of home accessories I’ve acquired over the years it all came together perfect storm style and I couldn’t be happier. So next time I bump into a freshly painted wall with my new J Crew tulip coat on or the pipes burst again in the laundry room, I can just dash into my little celery green nest and wish away the badness lurking on the other side of the Dutch door. A sampling of pictures can be found below. Obviously we have a long way to go but it's finally coming together...

Are You There Domino? It's Me Jessy

Perhaps its irony or a cruel joke God is playing on me but what are the chances that I move into my new house the very same day my absolutely favorite shelter magazine-or any periodical for that matter shutters its doors. For the past three years I have greeted each new issue like a meth addict handles his pipe, hands shaking in gleeful anticipation of what I was about to experience. How am I going to find the inspiration to decorate my 8+ empty rooms without the guidance of my décor bible?

Thank God I have saved every issue-much to the chagrin of Alex who had to pack them up in NY, move them to Providence and then again to the new house. While the rest of my stuff is in complete disarray-I couldn’t even find the kettle to boil water this morning, they are lovingly stacked in chronological order on the bookshelf in my office. A good friend suggested I read only one old issue a month and hopefully if I’ve consumed enough wine (which shouldn’t be a problem) the magazine will seem like new to me. Or perhaps I could post one copy in the mail to myself every 30 days…we shall see.

For six plus years I lived with mismatched furniture, a bedroom overflowing with all of my life possessions, and stark renter’s white walls dreaming of the day that I would have my own house to renovate. Now the time has come and I am lost without my muse of a magazine. Until then I will try to make due with House Beautiful, Dwell and Living Etc but who am I kidding it just won’t be the same.

Home is Where the Tangerine Shag Carpet Is

Less than 11 months ago I was a work hard play hard New Yorker living in a matchbox sized apartment with a bat shit crazy roomie and way too many pairs of shoes. Fast forward to the present and I am back in Rumford, RI with a ring on my finger, a mortgage on my first home and a new puppy on a hound-tooth leash. This blog will detail my journey as I adjust to life back in suburbia where restaurants close at 11, stores don’t deliver magazines or even liquor (gasp!), people apparently don’t walk their dogs in high heels and residents fail at the art of brunch. Follow me as my lovely Scottish fiancé Alex and I try to turn our 1960’s decorated colonial into our dream home one knotty pine paneled room at a time.

Here's an idea of the house when we moved in. The kitchen was the color of mint chocolate chip ice cream which lovingly complimented the mustard yellow Formica that graced the counters. And lest we forget the breakfast nook with its glazed shredded wheat style backsplash. Words cannot describe…Unfortunately we don’t have pictures of the tangerine colored shag carpeting on the stairs or the wrought iron banister that matched the decorative gate leading to the literal man cave hidden in the basement but I trust you can imagine it cant you?