All the Colors of the Rainbow - May 13, 2008
If only there were a place to begin... okay there is. Let's begin with my living room, never mind - actually, this story could begin many years ago... pieced together by bits and pieces of various magazines, ripped and stuffed into yellow envelopes and later carefully gone through and thrown away or meticulously taped into manila folders, next to paint swatches and pieces of laminate samples.
This story is about my walk with color. Even before I knew I would have a house of my own, I loved the thought of picking colors for rooms and matching walls with chintzy second hand garage sale chairs and random works of art. I adored flipping through magazines looking at colors and trying very hard to ignore the neat and tidy rooms (see previous blogs). For all of my adult life I have rented white walled interiors and filled holes in with different brands of white toothpaste. I have eagerly anticipated the thought of planning my own color schemes... so the moment arrived.
Enter Home Depot. I have aspent hours debating over the exterior color of the house. The siding is up and we can buy. Purple orchid, to be exact, is my color of choice... my husband is amazing for allowing me to paint my house purple, although, this specific color is a not quite purplish grey, or is it greyish purple? The choosing of the specific combination took months, while for years I have known in the back of my mind that I wanted a house that was not quite purple and not quite grey. So - one choice down...
Not so bad, until in the same night, my sweet, permissive and entirely clueless husband asked me if I was ready to get the colors for the rest of the house. My jaw dropped to the concrete floor, and I may have begun to have a wee panic attack. There was no way! I didn't have my manila folders or my color swatches. I had chosen colors from the Ace line, NOT Glidden! I hadn't considered eggshell versus satin versus high gloss. How could he even think that was acceptable? We laughed about it a couple hours later, ...nervously.... There was just no way I could make so important of a decision without my notes. No way.
So, happily, two weeks later, I entered Home Depot complete with my notes, my folders and my paint swatches. I had stayed up late poring over the 56 different shades of white to make sure my ceiling, trim and doors were perfectly not quite white. I held every swatch to the other ones, just in case someone walking down the hall saw into three other rooms at once. They absolutely had to feel complemented. If only I paid this kind of attention to say, housework or things that matter, my life might be somewhat organized! So anyway, after purchasing something like 13 carefully chosen colors, I left Home Depot perfectly ecstatic to paint my house and only a little bit hesitant about the hallway and master bath colors.
Enter painting marathon. The house is drywalled, textured, etc. We have 12 roller refills, 36 foam brushes, 9 paint trays and 15 stir sticks. I am ready to sacrifice my locomotive operator overalls and one of my bandanas. We have water and Monster coffee drinks (a different blog altogether) and the kids are happily running everywhere. Lets fast forward through the BOOOOOORING primer part and give five kudos to Jason for priming and painting every square inch of ceiling.
Now (three days later) we are rolling in color!! The living room/kitchen color was just the right shade of yellowish wheat, cheerful yet muted. I adored the Bistro color of the dining room/kitchen - I held the laminate sample up to it and danced around. Next comes the office. The spring-y clean calming green was beautiful!! Bright and relaxing! Although maybe bright is too weak of a word; the green absolutely glows!! No really - the flash of camera in the dead dark of the house picked up only green. I will be an alien while working on paperwork.
I can laugh because as we threw more color on the wall, I began to talk about what the paint gurus SHOULD have named the colors. Mint truffle should have been Glow worm. I still love the green, I will just have to keep the office door shut for reasons other than it will probably be a mess anyways (just kidding, honey - I will be a new woman in my new house...).
While choosing colors, I had discussions with friends regarding people who have the job of naming paint colors and where in the world they find the relation between the color and the name they choose to give it. I WISH I had that job. As the painting continued, I also began to "make fun" of my colors, as if they were the names of future children. Maybe bracing myself for comments from cruel visitors or insensitive worker guys putting in my flooring or cabinets. Next was the hallway. Sonora is not the right descriptive word for Malibu Barbie flesh. Hopefully the next coat won't look like another tanning bed visit. I would name my Honeysweet bathroom Honey mustard.
Don't get me wrong, I feel as though these paint colors belong to me, as if I have to find a reason to make them part of my home. I put hours into this. My children and husband suffered while I held up paint swatch after paint swatch under flourescent, incandescent and outdoor light. Once we add our Riding High White (what???) trim and throw the carpet in there, it should be good. I will pound holes and hang pictures and recover my garage sale chairs to complement. If all else fails and my skin takes on a greenish tinge or I begin to purchase only self tanning lotion, then I will admit I was wrong and repaint. If I want pretzels every time I take a shower, then I will admit that mustard does not belong on the walls.
For now, I am happy with the colors I agonized over. I am ready to hear, " I love what you've done with your house! I would never be [brave, stupid, blind, crazy (select one)] enough to do something like this!!"
This story is about my walk with color. Even before I knew I would have a house of my own, I loved the thought of picking colors for rooms and matching walls with chintzy second hand garage sale chairs and random works of art. I adored flipping through magazines looking at colors and trying very hard to ignore the neat and tidy rooms (see previous blogs). For all of my adult life I have rented white walled interiors and filled holes in with different brands of white toothpaste. I have eagerly anticipated the thought of planning my own color schemes... so the moment arrived.
Enter Home Depot. I have aspent hours debating over the exterior color of the house. The siding is up and we can buy. Purple orchid, to be exact, is my color of choice... my husband is amazing for allowing me to paint my house purple, although, this specific color is a not quite purplish grey, or is it greyish purple? The choosing of the specific combination took months, while for years I have known in the back of my mind that I wanted a house that was not quite purple and not quite grey. So - one choice down...
Not so bad, until in the same night, my sweet, permissive and entirely clueless husband asked me if I was ready to get the colors for the rest of the house. My jaw dropped to the concrete floor, and I may have begun to have a wee panic attack. There was no way! I didn't have my manila folders or my color swatches. I had chosen colors from the Ace line, NOT Glidden! I hadn't considered eggshell versus satin versus high gloss. How could he even think that was acceptable? We laughed about it a couple hours later, ...nervously.... There was just no way I could make so important of a decision without my notes. No way.
So, happily, two weeks later, I entered Home Depot complete with my notes, my folders and my paint swatches. I had stayed up late poring over the 56 different shades of white to make sure my ceiling, trim and doors were perfectly not quite white. I held every swatch to the other ones, just in case someone walking down the hall saw into three other rooms at once. They absolutely had to feel complemented. If only I paid this kind of attention to say, housework or things that matter, my life might be somewhat organized! So anyway, after purchasing something like 13 carefully chosen colors, I left Home Depot perfectly ecstatic to paint my house and only a little bit hesitant about the hallway and master bath colors.
Enter painting marathon. The house is drywalled, textured, etc. We have 12 roller refills, 36 foam brushes, 9 paint trays and 15 stir sticks. I am ready to sacrifice my locomotive operator overalls and one of my bandanas. We have water and Monster coffee drinks (a different blog altogether) and the kids are happily running everywhere. Lets fast forward through the BOOOOOORING primer part and give five kudos to Jason for priming and painting every square inch of ceiling.
Now (three days later) we are rolling in color!! The living room/kitchen color was just the right shade of yellowish wheat, cheerful yet muted. I adored the Bistro color of the dining room/kitchen - I held the laminate sample up to it and danced around. Next comes the office. The spring-y clean calming green was beautiful!! Bright and relaxing! Although maybe bright is too weak of a word; the green absolutely glows!! No really - the flash of camera in the dead dark of the house picked up only green. I will be an alien while working on paperwork.
I can laugh because as we threw more color on the wall, I began to talk about what the paint gurus SHOULD have named the colors. Mint truffle should have been Glow worm. I still love the green, I will just have to keep the office door shut for reasons other than it will probably be a mess anyways (just kidding, honey - I will be a new woman in my new house...).
While choosing colors, I had discussions with friends regarding people who have the job of naming paint colors and where in the world they find the relation between the color and the name they choose to give it. I WISH I had that job. As the painting continued, I also began to "make fun" of my colors, as if they were the names of future children. Maybe bracing myself for comments from cruel visitors or insensitive worker guys putting in my flooring or cabinets. Next was the hallway. Sonora is not the right descriptive word for Malibu Barbie flesh. Hopefully the next coat won't look like another tanning bed visit. I would name my Honeysweet bathroom Honey mustard.
Don't get me wrong, I feel as though these paint colors belong to me, as if I have to find a reason to make them part of my home. I put hours into this. My children and husband suffered while I held up paint swatch after paint swatch under flourescent, incandescent and outdoor light. Once we add our Riding High White (what???) trim and throw the carpet in there, it should be good. I will pound holes and hang pictures and recover my garage sale chairs to complement. If all else fails and my skin takes on a greenish tinge or I begin to purchase only self tanning lotion, then I will admit I was wrong and repaint. If I want pretzels every time I take a shower, then I will admit that mustard does not belong on the walls.
For now, I am happy with the colors I agonized over. I am ready to hear, " I love what you've done with your house! I would never be [brave, stupid, blind, crazy (select one)] enough to do something like this!!"
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