Now you do what they told ya

A classic song of rebellion!  Some electrifying music to play when the work ethic slows down...


Apparently, people who are looking at houses for sale have zero imagination.  They are incapable of looking at a house and picturing their crap in it instead of somebody else's crap.  They can't look at a house and see anything other than what's right in front of their eyeballs.

I have been told that I have to repaint my living/dining room/ upstairs hall/ entrance/ downstairs hall.
I have to because First Impressions Are Everything.

I don't want to.  I like the colour I chose.  It's called Stone Harbour and it's a nice warm grey with just a tiny tint of brown.  It's neutral without being beige.  I'm sure you can imagine how I feel about beige if you don't already know.

Our real estate agent, who knows a hell of a lot more about selling houses than I do, advised us to take it up a shade or two.  Not change the colour necessarily but take it lighter.

So, I'm gonna do it.

Because apparently the rest of the world can't look at a house without freaking out, clasping their hands to the faces and shrieking, "Good Heavens, the living room is... it's... IT'S SO DARK and GLOOMY."  Cuz like you know, anything darker than BEIGE is so DARK it'll SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF YOU OH NOOOOOOOOO YOU MUST NOT BUY THIS HOUSE!

See, I really love this house, but I have to sell it, so I have to do what they told me.

This is tricky, this preparing my house to be presented to the world, because I don't know what everybody else likes.  I know what I like.  I like warmth, and coziness, and bright colours contrasted against an unexpected neutral.  I like black.  I have black curtains and black tiles in the bathrooms, and the kitchen floor. I like paintings on the walls.  I like things that are old and have a sheen of wear and history.  I like softness.  I like pictures of my loved ones.  I like displays of little things that have some kind of special meaning to me, or some kind of visual interest.  I like plants and rusty horseshoes on the windowsills.  Yeah, this often translates to a style I like to call "New Millennium Packrat" and it's not for everybody.

I can't tell what everybody else likes.  I don't understand the big-box store beige carpet world some folks live in.  And they wouldn't understand me.



(Honestly, general population of the world, can we get over our fear of the non-beige???  Be brave!  And don't fear the grey!     Ha, wait 'til they work their way back to our purple bedroom!  ha, ha ha harrrr!)