Pink Bathroom Blues

I come from a long line of pink bathrooms.  My grandmother’s home in South Minneapolis was a charming pink with ruffled curtains and the most lovely soap smells. My parent’s home I grew up in is an original pink and black Art Deco style bathroom with a built-in vanity that is of a nod to a different era. My first home had pink and green tile  that with some white paint and new lights became glorious. I loved it.

So when we bought our 1950s home in the suburbs of Minneapolis and I went into the bathroom as we were looking to purchase the home–sigh–I could only dream about the color this bathroom once was.  Was it once powder blue with a touch of grey?  A charming peach? In my grandest dreams it was pink–all pink–tub, walls, floor.
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A Place to Call Home

My sister and I were having the conversation the other day about growing up in our parents’ home. We were recalling how my mother’s stylish home incorporated loved pieces of furniture bought-gasp-second hand. It wasn’t seen as a downgrade. She loved the chair or love seat she purchased at the estate sale, and it fit her room. It was seen as a stylish purchase rather than something she settled for.We were wondering when had life become so disposable? 

Inheriting my mother’s love for home design, I am drawn to the room that needs the small touch. My husband would say it’s an obsession of sorts, but he loves it in the end. My spot I’m enjoying right now is my favorite transformation of our home.

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