Giving Green: Part Two

At Last, Color Me Happy 

Here it is. Okay, these photos maybe don’t show the color as accurately as they could. It is a biscuity brown, soft, like a pale coffee ice cream. The detail at the back of the bookshelves was inspired! And was the brainchild of my painter, Paul Flessa. It’s a deep raiseny plum, almost like a rum raisin, so the whole living room is a little like a big bowl of ice cream, and what’s wrong with that? 

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Giving Green: Part One

You won’t believe it, but I’m really making progress on the wall color situation. Look at this new color I found! It’s called “rich cream.” It’s made by Benjamin Moore, and no, they’re not paying me a cent to say that. 

I started putting it on the wall, and loved it so much I went out and bought two gallons, in the Aura paint, which is environmentally, you know, happy-making. Makes you happy as it doesn’t release toxins, makes the world happy because it’s harvested from organic paint-bushes or something. Plus, you need less of it, rather than more, so in an ironic, shocking twist, it actually costs less to do the right thing. 

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The Necessity Of Decoration

Decoration has gotten a bad rap, and so has the appellation “decorator” as opposed to “designer.” There is a very real distinction between the two terms, mostly in that some states license designers, but let decorators go willy-nilly into that great world of paint color and fabric swatches without state approval. This distinction has led to some ugly (yet beautifully mocha-toned, with a cream trim) mud-slinging  between the two camps. 

Often, there is a bit of an assumption that decorators aren’t quite as serious, or as well-trained, as designers, with everyone wanting to insist that they do more than just decorate. 

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Holiday Décor

Have you ever wondered about Thanksgiving décor? I am wondering about it right now myself. Not because I have any, thank god, but because my neighbors’ apartment door now has a bunch of corn, what we used to call "Indian Corn" tied in a little bouquet and somehow (duct tape? Crazy Glue?) attached to it, just below the peephole.  

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Sleeping The Day Away

This is about the weirdest thing. 

No, that’s a tremendous exaggeration. There are many other weirder things. But really, going into a bed store in mid-town Manhattan, mid-day, and taking a nap in nearly-silent, windowless room, is right up there. 

Apparently not so weird, however, for the clerks at the Dux store. There, the clerk happily remembered my appointment and escorted me into the room, showing me the hook for my clothing, assuring me I wouldn’t be disturbed. 

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