Cindy is feathering her nest with Leather

I’m an HVGT fanatic. That’s HGTV to those of you who aren’t dyslectic, or in my case cross-eyed from spending so much time at the computer lately. Not enough time, apparently, was spent taking decorating advice from the experts.

I bought new family room furniture last week. This, after looking for months in any number of retail outlets and on line. You name it, I saw it. I mentioned that I watch HGTV, right? So, I should know all about color and scale and yada yada. So, why is it then that I now have an elephant and his little brother in the room?

I wanted leather mostly because I’ve developed a bad dust mite allergy and my allergist suggested that the next time I get furniture to go leather. I, of course, heard that as: You need to buy new furniture. You can see where I’m coming from.

Anyway, I made a to-scale rendering of the room on paper. I measured furniture in stores, made templates that I moved around on the paper to help me decide on my outside limits and my ideal limits for size. Yes, I recognize that it was anal. I figure, hey, I’m going to live with this stuff for a long time and I want it to be right. So, I finally find the perfect new leather pieces – a sofa and a loveseat. I’m excited. I buy them.

Today, they were delivered. Color – great! Texture – great! Comfort level – fantastic X 10! Scale – how did I go wrong??? It looked so perfect in the showroom and on my template. In my actual room, however, the two pieces look like over stuffed Dumbos. I don’t get it. Oh, it’s not horrible. It's kind of like looking in the mirror at my own rear view and thinking, "I didn't know my butt was that big." But the truth is, it is big. In fact, I think this furniture makes my butt look even bigger and that fries me too :o(

All right, it’ll work, but it feels more like a near miss than a bull’s eye and I'm not in love like I wanted to be. I’m thinking that now, the only thing to do is by a newer bigger house to go with it. So far, DH is not on board with that idea.

I did, however, have one shopping success. And of course, it was by accident which makes a mockery of my careful planning. I wanted a chair for my office. Just a little side chair that would look nice with the loveseat. First chair I saw, I liked and bought on sale, no less, and wow. It’s perfect.

Buddy and Sly think so too as you can see by this photo. Guess that should be a lesson to me. Next time I make a major new furniture buy (which will be oh - twenty years from now), screw the careful, painstaking planning and just buy the first thing that looks good.

So, how about you? Ever make a bad choice you have to live with? Car? Furniture? Husband? Lipstick? And what do you do when that happens? I mean, it’s not like I can shove these two elephants in my trunk and ask for my money back. It wasn’t their fault I was blind….

Guido's Home Decoratin'

Yo. It's me. Betina's pal Guido. She has axed me to come an' once again elucidate for youse on a subject close to my heart. Home decoratin.' Which I have been doin' a lot of lately on account of my girlfriend vamoosed an' took every stinkin' stick of furniture in da house. (May her died blond hair get pulled out by its fat black rooots.)

She's gone two days an' here comes my two sisters. Who always drive me nuts. Them broads-- they know how to put the hurt on a guy. I gave 'em every cent I had on me and a couple of credit cards from a guy who won't be needin' 'em anymore(wink, wink). Anyways, I told 'em. . . a good recliner and one o' them big screen TV's. On accounta I am a man o' simple needs.

Whaddo I get? Boxes. Big, heavy boxes. Nine of 'em. Just for the livin' rooom. There's four more in th' bedroom an' half a dozen fer the kitchen. They went to someplace called Ike-ear or somethin'. Laughed their asses off. Well, almost. Both o' them broads got way too much in th' trunk to get rid of wit one cheap trick on a brudder. Gina, she hands me a screwdriver and says fer me to brush up on my prayers. I, o'course, called Ma. Who said it was all her idea. To keep me busy. Idol hands. . . 'er some such.

I am not a man to be out-done. Respects to Ma, an' all that, but I am not gonna sit around for weeks on cardboard wile I try to figure out how to put dis shit together. Pardon da French. Nor can I call any o' my fellow wise guys an' confess how my sisters got it over on me. So I head for dis Ike-ear place to find somebody who knows how to use a screwdriver.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph-- the place was like five blocks long! I wandered around, an' found a guy in a blue shirt who was talkin' to some customers like he knew what was up. When he finished, I dragged him behind a bookcase, cranked on his arm a little, an' persuaded him to come home wi' me an put my stuff together. It's what he gets fer sellin' stuff half made, the little weasel.

Anyway, turns out-- after he stops wailin' and beggin' me to let 'im live-- he does know how to put th' stuff together. I hand 'im the screwdriver and he gets to work. And --dam-- dang, this stuff ain't too bad. After half a hour, I got a coffee table. Then a end table. End of what, I dunno. Anyway, pretty soon, I got a sofa. . . which only needed feet. Sofas got FEET. Who knew? So, before long, I got bookcases. Two of 'em. Heh. Like I got any books. But this little IKEA turd tells me it was smart of 'em. . . on account of I needed some "verticals" in da room. I tell 'im I'm more a hor-i-zontal kinda guy. But he says it's decor-a-tor talk for fillin' up the walls. Then he says my twisted sisters got the model with a little table (con-soul) in the middle for a TV. A big screen TV. Okay, so now I'm interested.
Pretty soon, I'm on the floor in my sock feet holdin' the chair seat with one hand an' my piece in the otha. An' before long, I'm sittin' at my own kitchen table-- which I helped put together wit my own two hands. Not bad for my first time usin' a strewdriver for anything besides jimmyin' a lock. I figure the little turd deserves a beer. An' while we're workin' on the bedside tables, he says I need some pitchers. Like hell, I says. Me and my buddies all drink beer like God made it-- straight outa the bottle. Pitchers for the walls, he says.

An' then he says I need some new curtains for da windows. Dese wi' the little coffee pots on 'em has been here since WWII. Then he rolls out the rug and puts the tables in place and I'm--ya know--all choked up. An' not like Vinnie's got me in a headlock choked up. Maybe my sisters don' hate me afterall. He pokes around an' finds a picture of Ma and one of me wit some o' my old P.S. 117 gang. Puts 'em on the shelves and. . . dang, th' place is lookin' downright homey.

So I order in some baked ziti an' open a bottle of Chianti. . . an the Turd, who's name is Sheldon, talks about how some new paint on the walls an' a pitcher or two an' I got a real pad here. Like one o' them makeover shows. I ain't never seen one, so I haveta trust him he ain't talkin' about
girlie stuff. Anyway, turns out, he's not a bad guy. A little stiff. Like he ain't exactly used to guns pointed at him. I guess it's jus' somethin' ya haveta get used to.

Anyways, he tells me there's dis layerin' thing to decoratin'. You gotta think about things. . . like the "mood" you want in the room. Says certain colors have effects on people. Like red. . . makes people alarmed or excited. Yeah, I can see that. I see red on a shirt or a floor-- I get a little excited. Anyway he's tellin' me all kindsa stuff about color and before I know it, I'm axin' him to come wit me to pick out paint and drapes for the rest o' that "makeover" thing. He says he will and we set a date.

I call 'im a cab and as we stand waitin' for it by the door, lookin' at the front room. . . I just reached out an' hug 'im. You know. Jus' a regular Goomba wise guy-to wise-guy hug to say thanks. He hugs me back.

Okay, I guessed straight up that Shel's pitchin' for the other side, know what I mean? And since he left I'm thinkin' about that hug. I mean, he hugged me. Now whadda I do? I mean, I'm supposed to meet 'im an' pick out curtains wi' him. An' now I'm wonderin' if that's smart. I mean, what if he wants to hug me again?

What about youse? Done any redecoratin'? Got any makeovers? I'm thinkin' maybe my sisters weren't just bein' mean. I'm thinkin' maybe I'll have them an' Ma over for dinner some day. . . to say thanks. How do I handle the Sheldon thing? You ever had to put furniture together? Ever been to IKEA? Whaddaya think?

Debra - PIECE BY PIECE

I would live like a bear in a cave rather than face a full-scale decorating project, which is why I have to "sneak" up on it, one piece at a time. It seems less daunting that way.

I also have champagne tastes and a beer budget. (Anyone else afflicted with that character flaw?) So, I'm less nauseated if I only buy one piece at a time.

Plus I've been remodeling for two years. (That's been a great excuse.)

When you combine my love of "pretty-stuff-I-can't-afford-because-I-don't-live-in-that-house" with my unwillingness to "shop til I drop" to get the bargains and my avoidance of paint chips, fabric stores and furniture catalogues you get a very long time table for decorating.

However, I've run out of construction. All major and minor construction for the remodel is now finished. Furniture that was supposed to take 6 months is arriving months early. There is no longer any excuse for primer walls. I had to bite the bullet. (The pic colors didn't come out great. Think lily pond. Palest blue ceiling called Stillness, Limesicle walls, etc. and toss in some leather.)

"What?!" you homey types are saying. " Why didn't you do all this decorating-painting stuff while you were remodeling?" Short answer: I was busy trying not to kill my husband, the contractor and that stray dog who had puppies under my house. Who had time to select anything?

Here's what I've discovered:

Not allowing anyone to rush me was the best thing I could ever have done.
I adore each of the pieces I've carefully found over the last year.
My color palette evolved because I hadn't committed to anything...yet.
My options expanded because I was willing to wait on backorders.
My animals have loved the empty master bedroom for frollicking.
My husband worries the kitchen furniture will encourage people to sit in his kitchen.
I learned "scale" finally.
$ 140 a yard is too much for silk drapery fabric even if it is beyond perfect. (Puhleeze!)
I had the wrong kind of night stand for my storage needs all these years.
Steps to get in the bed were worth it and the cats approve.
My carpet is the wrong color. (rush decision during remodeling)
If I want silk drapes I have to make them myself.
It is okay to have an armoire for nothing but my quilts.

I love Hekman, Theodore & Alexander, Lorts, and more. I'd have everything they make. The etched bronze and wood table at the right is called, "I don't care if I don't have chairs to sit in! I want that table for...something."

I love wood. Lots and lots of wood which isn't necessarily a good thing.

If you have a chair you love, you will never find the same dimensions again.

Poor hubby is going to be painting for months.

So, how about you? Are you an "everything at once" kind of decorator or do you collect things piece by piece? Do you like antiques? Reproductions? Funky pieces with folk art? Are your ceilings white or a color?