The Old White House of My ChildHood

From Julia at Hooked on Houses

When I was 7 years old we moved into an old white house in a desert town.  Everyone in my family was busy with the move.  I entered the house for the very first time all alone, and gave myself a tour.  I explored and wandered, curious as any kid would be.  I walked up the old wooden staircase, peeked into the eaves, and then into the topmost attic bedroom. 



My vintage-inspired bedroom

When I entered that room, I was overcome with emotions I couldn't describe.  It was a beautiful room, full of old-fashioned charm, that even in my young years I could recognize.  There was a large queen bed, with a white chenille bedspread.  Old lovely floral wallpaper caressed all of the attic angles in the room.  Large windows streamed in beautiful light, and the room overlooked the front of the house and the sidewalk below.  I felt like a princess in a tower!  There was a pretty oval gilded mirror on the wall.  There were all these odd-shaped closets built-in to the walls, with hiding places galore.  And the carpet, I will never forget:  it was a beautiful burgundy color, with ROSES printed all over it.

A cat was curled up in a comfy spot on the bed.  It gave me a meow, and moved off as soon as it saw me, looking at me as if to say, " you're turn". 

So I took the hint. 

I was in heaven, and I climbed into the big bed, and took a nap.  I had found a quiet place, in the middle of a trying time for our family, a place of refuge, that would later become my very own bedroom.  It was a defining moment for me. 

So much of what we did to fix up that house would become important to me later on in my life, and form a basis for my 'style'.  We made that house 'our own' by painting everthing a beautiful, bright, white.  Watching my mom and my sister paint the walls and the kitchen cabinets took on a kind of spiritual essence for me.  White seemed to make everything cleaner, brighter, lighter, and renewed.  It was the beginning of my lifelong love for white walls, white painted furniture, white kitchens, white glass, and white houses. 

I love to decorate!  I love the process of composing a room, and it fascinates me.  But in the end, how a room LOOKS is a whole lot less important to me than how a room FEELS. 

When it comes to decorating, there's lots of advice out there.  Design principles change less over the years, but decorating trends tend to come and go.  What looks good on a magazine page might look drastically different in your own space!!  Stores and shops overflow with lots of cute accessories that don't always end up being functional or liveable in a home.

Real life home decor is something more.  It's about creating a feeling in your home. 

I have been passionate about home decorating almost my entire life, but the homes I've felt the most comfortable in aren't always the most beautiful or the most decorated!

The homes I remember with fondness are the ones where I felt special. They wouldn't make the cover of a magazine, but I can hardly think of them without tears.  Places where I was loved, places where I was safe, places where I could dream, and places where I could where I could truly be a kid. 

In the end, I  want home to be a place where those I love can come and feel comfortable and appreciated for who they are.  To feel the way that I did on that sunny day long ago, when I walked in that beautiful room and felt peace and comfort flood me!  Welcome Home.