Bedtime Story

Yesterday I regaled you with exasperating tales of bedding shopping and decor waffling. Let's back track to the beginning of this convoluted plot arc, shall we? For over a month now a new bedroom plan has been percolating, largely inspired by Karly's suggestion to use a wicker screen as a headboard for our hulking king size bed -- our bed for which an inexpensive, conventional headboard cannot be found. I mean seriously, could Ikea not make this dumb bed in a king? Could West Elm not make prettier beds? Could craigslist not throw me a vintage bone instead of listing after listing of gross Haverty's sleigh beds? Apparently they cannot. And I can't find a wicker screen large enough to stretch behind our ginormous, now white be-duveted king bed, heretofore known as Moby Dick. Pun intended.

Anyway, here's what I'm thinking. Sort of.

I mean, how could I go wrong with a Miles Redd inspired room, featuring an awesome vintage screen as my bedding focal point?

Here's how: I have two big windows behind my bed. They are ruining my life.

So, if I use a normal size screen, then I am effectively blocking our beautiful windows. And while the mole in me approves of this idea, the sunnier, sparklier me knows it's dumb.

Even though that's exactly what's going on in this picture. Surprise! There's a window behind the bed! Yeah, I'm not fooled, either. Plus our wall is much, much longer than this one.

What I really need is a low, long screen that won't completely cover the window wall. And this entire bedroom. Hot diggity dog.

This screen would also do.

Because the necessary dimensions are so particular (at least 72" wide, and rib cage height), I'm thinking about buying one of these blank canvas screens and recovering it:

This is exactly what I suggested Elissa do when she wrote in for decorating advice, so I'm not sure how it's taken this long for me to apply the solution to my own conundrum... I'm really not too bright.

Anyway, I like the idea that this plan would allow me to pick a nutty fabric, and my white duvet and neutral wall paint will be totally understanding and supportive. Plus, it would be easy to change up the scheme when I tire of it, which will probably be about three seconds after I finish the project.

Now, I just need to commit, pick a fabric, and decide what to do about my window treatments... curtains? Roman shades? Scrap this whole idea and waffle some more?

The forum is open to suggestions.

[Miles Redd, Michael S. Smith, Trad Home, House Beautiful x 2]

Two Crazy Bedrooms and One Mayonnaise Sandwich

Yesterday I made the grueling trek into the northern wilds, home of Ikea. Land of milk and honey. Or so I thought. See, I have long been incubating radical plans to radically update our completely unradical bedroom -- our bedroom that is now headboardless, directionless, and a complete mess (if you don't have kids, judge not lest you be immediately impregnated). Before I headed to Ikea and was completely destroyed by the juggernaut that is ubiquitous Swedish decor, my plans to revolutionize sleeping through the power of psychedelic design were maybe somehow inspired by these rooms:

Minus the barfy dress.

Minus the funny face.

As I stood in front of the racks and racks and racks of duvet covers (while Ike melted down t-10 seconds to naptime), I thought about how I'm supposed to buy a blanket instead of a duvet cover, because duvet covers are so fall 2010. But all I saw were duvet covers. About 5237866 of them. And I know I probably should have gone home and bought a blanket off the interwebs, but I was under pressure from fluorescent lighting and toddler tantrums. Plus I'm tired of looking at the stupid mauge comforter (suspiciously close to this color) on our giant bed. So there I stood -- endlessly, painfully pondering the duvet cover conundrum.

First I picked this up:

And then I put it down, because it had flowery flowers on it and I suspected it would not play well with the giant black panther picture hanging beside our bed. Or the Oriental nightstands. Or the chrome bench. Or pretty much anything in that room.

I bought a white duvet cover. It's not even worth picturing. It's white.

How did my technicolor dreams turn to dust in the wind? Damn you, Ikea, for overwhelming me with your conspicuous overstocking. Whatever. I'm moving on, and I think things are headed in this direction:

Just kidding. It's pretty, but I have too much stuff to live in here.

I have a new plan. It has elements of crazy, but also supports the new white duvet cover theory formula corollary.

Alas, we'll have to discuss it ad infinitum later because I have to go to a biggo photo job right now... someone has to pay for all that crap I bought at Ikea.

Have a good Monday. Do some psycho shopping for me.

[Desire to Inspire, Elle Decor, Magnus Marding]

Love Hate Love

I'm feeling the urge to paint again. I swear paint fumes give off some secret crack that compels me, knees and shoulders screaming in resistance, to repaint just one. more. time. I see no problem with the fact that I have repainted some rooms in this house three times in the three years we have lived here, because I blame blogging. Looking at a zillion gorgeous images a day fills my head full of dancing sugarplum dreams, and just when I think I'm a fully recovered paintaholic, something will come along and spark up the old addiction. Ah, I love the smell of fresh paint in the morning.

Well, let me tell you what color I am not going to paint my walls.

Ok, so actually this house is amazing... but that paint color! It looks like my mom's lipstick from 1983.

It's a color that loves naked lady butt cleave.

It's a color that invites Demons to bed.

But then I look around and I think, Damn this house be fine.

I really like the colors that go with that other, weirder color. And what the hell color is it, anyway? Mauve?

I try to keep an open mind about decor. I consider myself to be an eternal student of everything, because people who think they know it all are doomed to turn into boring old fossils incapable of growth and change. Not that I feel strongly about that or anything. (And not that I actually think I know anything.)

Point is, sometimes that open mind can get me into trouble. Sure, I have things I know I always like. But sometimes things I think I hate surprise me into becoming things I love.

Can you tell that paint color is starting to confuse me? I plan to adjourn to my cracky ultra addictive but incredibly delicious (if only it were laced with paint fumes!) coffee to sort this issue out. Feel free to join me if you'd like.

[AD Russia]