This is it! I’m done! This is the third time in four years I’ve retained a consultant to help with home renovations. I’ve actually written two previous blog posts about this consultant. Please refer to “Beige-i-fying My House” and Beige-i-fying My House Part 2 for deep background on her.
Four years ago in the process of selling my house of 32 years our realtor suggested we hire a “House Editor” for guidance in neutralizing and de-cluttering our home. Our red, blue, and yellow walls vanished, replaced by beige. My art was cut in half; even my funky light fixture was given the boot in order to stage my house to sell.
Round two came two years later when we needed her advice on re-configuring our townhouse. We had not been emotionally (or financially) able to part with furniture from lives past so overstuffed sofas and dining room furniture had been crammed into smaller spaces.
Well, she’s back. This time I need help with my exceedingly small kitchen. Not that I can really ever afford her services, but I just don’t trust my own instincts (given the fact I’m crazy about color, my back splash could end up looking something like this-
I’m a big fan of consultants. I am a consultant and appreciate it when clients actually listen to the advice for which they pay. So, I’m listening to Sherrie in spite of the fact she is thwarting me at every turn. “White” is her relentless refrain. White quartz counter tops, white cabinets, and a white backsplash. I tentatively, even hesitantly broached the notion of “interesting” tile for the backsplash. “What do you mean interesting?” She asked, breathing out what felt like disdain. Stumbling and stammering I say something stupid like, “I’m not sure, I’ll know it when I see it.” I even behaved like a petulant child during a shopping outing when it felt as though she was mocking my ignorance. “Do you know how to calculate the margin of error on a survey?” I demanded. Her quizzical expression just made me feel worse. But in my defense, people who know stuff- like Home Depot employees sporting orange aprons brimming with utility knives, screw drivers, and measuring tapes—who say things like, “Oh, it’s easy, anyone can do it, all you have to do is…” and that’s when my husband (a pollster and statistician) would just love to do a mathematical takedown. But of course he would not want anyone to feel uncomfortable simply because he knows something they may not. Why can’t that sentiment be reciprocated?!
Nevertheless, I’m smack dab in the middle of round three, agreeing to pay too much money for a totally white kitchen. She keeps telling me these choices will create a foil for our artwork. (Although she still abhors my watermelon-head ceramic sculpture, Dr. Seuss teapot, and fiberglass “hand” chair) “The eye needs a place to rest” she keeps telling me. Grudgingly, I’m listening to her. I probably am a little ADD in my quest to fill spaces.
In spite of my grousing I totally believe Sherrie has class and taste. “Your kitchen will be timeless she tells me and will be great for re-sale. Be Brave. Lose the Beige truly is not just about color, it’s also about being brave. In this case I’m being brave about change. Even at 65, I still want to be open to changes and transformations. This one is just a little bit in my face! And I swear, this is the last post I write about her! Strike 3 you are out!