So this blank canvas thing. It’s all very well and people (rich people, mainly) keep telling me that I’m very lucky moving into a house where no one has put their stamp on it yada yada, but I’m just not creative in that respect. I mean, I’m creative in lots of other ways, like explaining away some new kitchen gadget I’ve bought and not told Hubby about (’oh that? Had it ages - in fact, I think me Mam gave it to us when we moved house last time’) but I’m not creative in that I don’t know the difference between teal and jade, or what colour will go with the horrible yellowy magnolia colour that the builder painted all our walls. This all lead to the big, expensive mistake that was the bedrooms.
Someone we met up here suggested this nice lady in Kells who makes curtains. Then in a spectacularly matter-of-fact aside happened to mention that you could probably get your whole house done for ‘ooh … six grand?’ Six grand? Six bloody shitting flamin’ grand?! Do I look like Aristotle Bloody Onassis? I was thinking more along the lines of six hundred, and that was going to be a struggle.
You see, for the smalls, who already had several different types of blue bedlinen, it made sense to stick with blue, so quickly writing off the nice Kells lady as a bad and expensive idea, we headed for Dundalk where there was one of those trading estates with lots of shops with names like ‘Homestore and More’. We sent the boys off to have a look and in the meantime wandered aimlessly amongst the ready-made curtains (I know, how common) and settled on these sort of quilted, vaguely satiny looking chocolatey brown ones with a thin golden stripe meandering through them. I thought they looked quite substantial and would look luxurious and hotel-like and warm up our pine floors a treat whilst hinting nicely at this season’s trend for metallics. The boys found white ones with different coloured blue dots going through them which we all agreed would say ’sunny, country bedroom’. Oh dear. How wrong we were.
The boys’ curtains, rather then saying ’sunny country bedroom’ say ‘oh dear, I’m rather transparent and let the sun wake everyone up at 5am’ and our bedroom says ‘holy crap, did I take a wrong turn and walk into a brothel?’. Don’t and I repeat, don’t, buy metallicy brown curtains. They may look classy in the pack and feel gorgeous to the touch, but every time I walk into my bedroom I feel like I should start stripping down to my black lace lingerie and pressing my breasts against the window with a ‘come hither’ look on my heavily made-up face. Now that would frighten the cows…
PS: Sorry for the poor photo quality but I was trying to tell the dog off for putting his snotty wet nose on my blanket at the same time as taking the photo. Multi-tasker, me.
