We also picked lilies of the valley for our red hutch. Lilies of the valley remind me of my Grandma Joyce, who always grew them. And they remind me of my wedding day, when I wore Crabtree & Evelyn's Lilies of the Valley perfume.
The house is still in disarray from half-finished organizing projects & our attempts to switch the office to the dining room & vice versa. But amidst the chaos, we have these lovely spring flowers to cheer our happy home.
I went through an all-lace, all-the-time phase in high school, college & post-college decorating. Doilies, valances, pseudo-Victorian splendor. I collected vintage hats & hat pins, old radios & sheet music for framing. I sort of left all that behind for awhile, but lately I've been yearning for lace curtains again. And even a couple doilies. I'm not sure why. They just feel glowy & light & airy & spring-like. It's been a dark & gloomy winter & I'm so ready to take down our heavy red curtains & plain white sheers.
But I'm not sure how to incorporate lace into our home without a) freaking Matt out - Mr. Former Mohawk Man who used to drive a car with his head stuck out the window because he had varnished his 'fro: although he says it looks great, I do wonder if he's just placating me. And b) not making it look like I'm stuck in the 80's.
There's a fine line between elegant vintage Victorian & chintzy heart & ribbon decor. I'm going for a wild English countryside garden look. Or a house that could step out from "Meet Me in St. Louis." I may be skating dangerously close to 3787 Willow Heights Drive SW, Rochester, MN, when I used to curl my bangs both under and over with a curling iron & a squirt of super hold hair spray. I just got bangs again. They, too, could either be seen as a hip Keira Knightly fringe or a misguided attempt to return to the claw of my youth.
We also have curtains in the upstairs office alcove for the first time ever. Courtesy of IKEA & Unique Thrift Store of Burnsville. The floral design reminds me of my childhood bedroom, which is both sweetly comforting and a little too 1980's for me. But, in the words of the farmer from the film Babe: "That'll do, pig. That'll do."
I'm good with sweet comfort & 1980's kitsch for now.
