You know those perfectly designed houses only filled with beautiful rooms of varying shades of white? Or those all white painted homes with perfectly peppered items and patterns of black? You may have noticed, I don’t have one of those. I love those homes. I really and truly do. I think, when done well (and they usually are, aren’t they?!), they are a dream. I can imagine myself in one those homes, loving my space. And I can swoon over those perfect photos and homes all I want, but I just can’t escape color.
You would think this is something I would have realized earlier…. but no, I never planned my space to be a mix and match of colors and patterns. I dreamed of all white when I moved in. And have been laughed at for stating I would have it. How did this happen? I don’t know. But here I am, in the idea— and the fact that I’ve placed piece after layered piece of color(ful pattern) into this life. There’s no going back— I live in color. I cant change it. Nor do I want to.
Best of all? The name of Marlowe’s imaginary band is called Rainbow Pants. And no surprise here, but her favorite color is “rainbow.” (Mine is yellow).
*except in my clothes. you can usually only find me in black, grey, or gray.