My home décor style is somewhere between “dumpster chic” and “eclectic-ancestral chic”. I love that you can add “chic” to any word, and it makes even my junk show sound cool. When my husband and I moved from his bachelor pad to our current home 14 years ago, we didn’t have any furniture. Mainly because I wanted to start fresh. His home had a decidedly “fraternal” look to it. A black vinyl sofa, wicker end tables from Cost Plus, University of Washington pennants proudly displayed as if they were Picassos, Delta Chi brick-a-brac, and monolithic stereo speakers and subwoofers as tall as the ceiling.
We lived in a sparsely furnished home for many years, which was perfectly conducive to the huge parties we threw before kids were even a twinkle in their daddy’s eye. We slowly accumulated furnishings over the years, and took full advantage of our proximity to Vancouver, BC. In the late 90’s my husband liked to refer to their currency as the “Canadian Peso”. It was a 40% discount on the dollar, so I loved scouring the antique and junk shops for furnishings. My mother-in-law has also been a great resource over the years. When she moved from the house my husband grew up in, she sent a lot of things our way. Including an extensive collection of painted portraits of my husband in grassy fields blowing on a dandelion, or looking dreamily up at the clouds. These one of a kind paintings, by an almost-famous local artist, represent each year of his precious boyhood. I considered creating a shrine or grotto to house this priceless artwork. I thought better of it, and they remain tucked away in our boiler room in hopes that archeologists might discover them a thousand years from now. Surely they will theorize about the domain he ruled over and the mythical power this young Norse prince wielded.
The portrait tribute to “Little Lord Fauterloy” aside, there is a solid marble Grecian statue I particularly like. It borders on “Liberace Chic”, but I find it irresistible, and I have it prominently displayed in our foyer. I’m not sure which Goddess she is, but I’m guessing Venus, the goddess of love. She certainly cast a spell on my son at a very young age. I caught him copping a feel when he was about four. I decided to capitalize on this teaching moment and explained to him, “That is what implants feel like, and son, it’s important to know the difference.”