I Love a Good Grosgrain

I went to the secret wholesale design warehouse with The Decorators yesterday to start picking out furniture and fabrics.

The Decorators are my new best friends, though they know it not. Always impeccably dressed and trailing a faint scent of Gucci in their elegant wake, their very presence compels me to flaunt every piece of design lingo I've ever gleaned from reading Flutter's Shared Items shelter magazines.

It's like I'm transported to another dimension where potty training and housework do not exist. I catch myself saying things like, "I am loving the way this grosgrain picks up the blues in the ikat! Did you know I'm a flexitarian?" when just a half an hour earlier found me yelling, "IF I CATCH YOU JUMPING ON THE COUCH OR LICKING THAT DOORKNOB AGAIN, I WILL PERSONALLY HAND OVER YOUR LEGOS TO THE GARBAGE MAN, SO HELP ME GOD" at the top of my lungs.

("Grosgrain" is a new word I learned. And did you know that "damask" is pronounced with the accent on the first syllable?)

The design center was a bit overwhelming and I felt completely out of my element (Le Target), but in the end I managed to get several photos of myself posing with various pieces of furniture, select an assortment of fabrics, a sofa, sideboard, chair AND coffee table, and to stuff my purse full of complementary chocolates.

I now wear a knotted scarf and take my breakfast in the morning room.


"Girl With Knotted Scarf, Borderline Personality Disorder"

A few of the fabrics I liked:

The Decorators Are Coming!

P-Dawg and I have really wanted to make some updates to our new digs ever since we moved in almost a year ago, but are paralyzed by laziness and indecision. So we finally enlisted two friends who run their own interior design business for some much needed help.

They came over last night for our initial consultation and ended up staying for several hours, walking around the house saying things like, "How do you feel about this banister?" and, "I'd like to see a window seat/reading nook here surrounded by floor to ceiling drapes" (I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THAT TOO!!!)

After being introduced, J-dog and V-meister, who only minutes before had been launching themselves headlong off the furniture, scattered to various corners of the abode faking shyness, leaving us to peacefully discuss our tastes and "vision" with Chris and Brett over a bottle of wine. I learned that I could talk about my pattern and color preferences for hours, and also that the P-Dawg has an enormous secret collection of Japanese prints and a bottle of Absinthe stashed away under lock and key in our wine cellar.

Eventually P-Dawg went upstairs to check on the kids and found our daughter sitting up in bed, sucking her thumb and twirling a lock of hair around her index finger with great intensity. The V-meister was clearly stressed out.

"What's up, V-Meister?" asked the P-Dawg.

"Are those decorators still here?"

"Yes."

"Are they decorating the house right now?"

"No, we're still just talking about it."

(*suck, suck, suck, twirl, twirl, twirl*)

"Daddy, I don't want those decorators decorating my room."

"Okay."

(*suck, suck, suck, twirl, twirl, twirl*)

"I will decorate my OWN ROOM."

"Okay."

"With balloons and streamers."

"Okay."

"I will decorate it with balloons and streamers, and also butterflies."

"Agreed."

"Those decorators will NOT decorate my room."

"That's fine."

With that settled, the V-meister relaxed into sleep and the P-Dawg went back downstairs to learn about the exciting differences between broadloom and berber.



And example of the V-meister's mad decorating skillz.