May 21, 2010

How gauche

In the late 1990s, I had a scrapbook filled with images of houses which I coveted. Not just the exteriors, but interiors, furniture, gadgets, architectural feats, household items, colours, locations...everything that makes up a home. The dream was that I would leave school, get a job, move out of my parents' place as soon as could, work on getting stuff I wanted to surround myself with, and finally buy my own home before I was 30.

Yeah, life never works out the way you plan it. Perhaps that's a blessing - I was rather into the gothic/Tudor look back then - but I still want my own place to tinker with and make my own.

One thing I never factored into my little dream was that I would be living with anyone else full-time. I imagined myself to be the strange, old, spinster lady with the pets and odd friends, who played the piano very loudly at dinner time and had a slightly overgrown garden. I'd been buying my own furniture and such in preparation for leaving home. I would take my piano, of course, the pets too. Then I met a guy and moved to the other side of the country. I ended up selling all that beautiful furniture, and my wonderful piano, and now I have no assets, and live in a tiny, pithy flat. My younger self would've been horrified.

I'm kinda lucky with my bloke that we both want a nice place with polished floorboards, a well-equipped kitchen, decent insulation, a courtyard, and a dog or cat (or both) to keep us company. That's our ideal. In the meanwhile, we rent our flat, which we furnish with compromises. I put up with his love of bright, primary colours, and he puts up with my love of soft furnishings. I try not to 'tch' at his dirty clothes/shoes/socks spread over the flat, and he keeps quiet about my art supplies stuffed dangerously behind my easel and anywhere else I can find space, and my complete annexing of the couch. Compromises.

Getting back on thread though, there was one thing I always wanted in my future house, especially after seeing this at the movies:



Gods, I still love that movie. Definitely watching it again on my holidays...

Anyway, yes, I used to want an aquarium as an architectural feature in my 'dream' house. I know, I know. It's okay, though, I think I've grown out of this, thankfully, BUT! I did see this just today, and it brought all those dreams flooding back.
Image from Hammacher Schlemmer shop

Of course, having this coffee table/aquarium would be far, far cooler if I actually had a cat who would sit on the thing, and stare at it in between naps. Simply can't afford to have one (a pet) right now, even fish...a house just ain't a home without a pet. But, geez, if I had've seen this as a 16-year-old, I may just have saved up my pennies and bought the damn thing.

Ah! I want my own place to live in. And I want to decorate it as I see fit. I still want those Victorian touches - a study lined with bookshelves; bedroom-come-boudoir, at least for a while; wall sconces of any kind, really; but the aquarium? Well, I've been compromising for so long that my tastes have changed. I can do without the aquarium.

And you know what? I think that's a good thing.

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