Before reading this I think you should sit down.
There. Take a seat. Grab your coffee (Need a little Baileys? Need a little more Baileys?).
Ok. So let me let you in on a little secret. You know how Architectural Digest publishes that yearly “Designer’s Homes” issue? And how all the blogs and rags and mags feature homes that we interior designers claim to live in? They’re all gorgeous and beautifully styled and spotless and freaking amazing. Hell, I’m even a little jealous.
Well anyway, it’s a myth. A sham. A game of smoke and mirrors. Let’s just say we’re pulling the wool over your eyes better than Copperfield at an Amtrak station. It’s true.
We don’t all live that way. I think Meredith Heron started blowing the lid off that secret a few weeks back by showing you photos of her now very famous living room strewn with toys (I love that Luke!) and clothes and what have you.
I always joke that it’s a case of the Cobbler’s Kids. I wear shoes but I’m still using patio furniture in my living room that came with us when Steve and I took the gamble and signed a lease together some five and a half years ago.
Can you believe five years have passed since we took the keys? Hey! That’s longer than the marriages of all the Kardashian sisters combined. I think we have a record.
So anyway, aside from giving you a sneak peek into my humble abode, I am introducing a new little series on the Bloggie. See, I WANT that designer house look without a) ripping down walls in what is really my long-term rental, and b) without paying $6,000 for a chair. I’m sure that there are quite a many of you that are in the same position. Starting next week and continuing every Monday for the next decade I at the Bloggie will take you through my home’s rebranding of sorts. There will probably be a little DIY, more drama than you wanted to see, a lot of shopping, with a dash of the sordid tales of the Smith-Stephens household.
Stay tuned…. because we’re going in deep.