Stark Modern Home Decor Can Be A Blessing Or A Huge, Huge, Curse

I recently visited in the home of a young friend who had just redecorated her entire house. Well, that’s what she said she’d done and specifically invited me over to see it as I’m known to take on a few decorating assignments now and then – both residential and commercial. Seems she wanted me to critique her work.

First of all, it’s absolutely the most nerve wracking thing in the world when someone uses the phrase “critique my work.” I don’t care if it’s giving the dog a bath or painting a house; every one of us has different ideas and direction when it comes to anything/everything on the face of this good earth. The second absolutely awful part of the word “critique” is that in my mind it’s a word based on the root word of “criticize.” Is that true? I don’t have a hoot in hades idea but it boggles me every time it’s used.

But, back to the subject at hand. I arrived at my young friend’s house (we’ll call her Jane) which is a cottage-type, older frame abode with a little curved sidewalk going up to a small, cozy porch and a rather historical looking front door. “Cottagey” is a good word to describe this house and also Jane. She’s a cookie backer and a nose wiper and homeschools her three children. She’s a stay-at-home mom and one would think with three kids she’d have enough to do without taking on a huge decorating project. Not so, dear hearts, not so!

Upon stepping in the front door I could sum the whole house up in one word – gone! Let’s begin with the small entry way that used to have an inexpensive yet colorful oriental-type rug on hardwood floors, an interesting entry piece upon which sat a couple of interesting “gee-gaws” and one picture of a twilight scene in the mountains. That’s the way the entry way USED to look.

NOW that same entry way has a long, skinny metal and glass table with some sort of glass bubble thingy sitting on it that couldn’t be useful for anything if it tried. If you laid a book or a set of car keys on it the whole ambiance would disappear. The Oriental rug has been replaced with a mat that looks like one should wipe their shoes on it before they come in the house. There’s a piece of modern art that could have been done by my cat walking in different colors of paint and then across the canvas. That’s it – absolutely, positively it. It’s the coldest, most unwelcoming entry way I’ve ever experienced in my life. Oh, and I forgot to mention that Jane has painted the whole house, woodwork and all, a chalky white – not gray or a light tint – stark white like a primer and the whole thing looks very institutional.

Well, this old lady was nearly done in by the entry way alone but as Jane was tremendously enthusiastic about her decorating accomplishments I followed her through the rest of the house. As I said before, it’s all chalk white – no depth, no nothing. She’s replaced all her comfortable and homey furniture with pieces a hospital wouldn’t even embrace. Everything is glass, hard angles, uncomfortable, devoid of any color deeper than a light gray (not even any bright throw pillows) and cold. There’s white, expensive blinds on the windows but they look just like mini-blinds from Wal-Mart to me (like mine) but thank heaven they disappear in the rest of the sea of white nothingness.

On wide expanses of wall she’s hung one dinky picture – not in one room but all over the house and none of these pictures are anything anyone could recognize. They’re all dashes and dabs of pale, pale colors that disappear entirely on those big, big walls. Her bedroom doesn’t look as cozy as most ICU units and the bathroom is even more bland than the bedroom. With all the glass and metal in the house I couldn’t find one place anyone could sit down and find even a modicrum of comfort.

Her kitchen is far more pristine and dull than any I’ve ever seen in my life. There is nothing – absolutely nothing – on any counter in the kitchen. I mean there’s not even a coffeemaker. I’d view nearly anything on earth a human being could sit on as more comfortable than the iron stools that surround her kitchen island – which, by the way, has nothing sitting on it either. In the spirit of joining in on her delight in her new surroundings I posed the question of how Jane kept her kitchen in such a spotless, uncluttered mode – particularly with three kids. Seems she’s advised the children they’ll receive “demerits” if they left anything laying around, failed to put a dirty glass in the dishwasher, etc., etc.

Jane did offer to make us some coffee and I accepted, climbed up on one of those damned iron barstools like a mountain goat and immediately regretted it. Sitting on one of those things was kind of like sitting on an iron stump. Uncomfortable wouldn’t even begin to cover it as it was flat-out metal – no cushions of any kind. She pulled the coffee maker out of the pantry, carefully measured everything in the pot and took out two absolutely boring white cups. We sat there and waited, and waited and waited.

While we waited Jane insisted I begin the “critique” of her newest decorating venture. Dear hearts I was walking on eggshells. I wanted to absolutely scream at my young friend, “Have you lost your ever lovin’ friggin mind?” But I didn’t. My first comment was, “You’ve definitely put a great deal of individualism in your home. How did you come up with this particular decorating style?” Her reply was a stunner.

“Oh, I just studied some of the higher end decorating magazines – you know, some of the stuff they do in those high rise apartments in New York? I’m not talking about walk-up apartments here. I’m talking about those gazillion-million dollar jobbies. I just thought if they can do that; so can I and it won’t cost me near that much to do it.”

“Well, I’m a little surprised that you’ve apparently avoided color at all costs. Why is that?” I asked as gently as I could phrase it.

“They don’t use color in the apartments I studied. It appeared to me the less color, clutter and overstuffed furniture the better. Now, Johnny doesn’t like the new decorating scheme at all as he says it’s uncomfortable and he feels like he’s in someone else’s house every time he comes in the door. Of course, the kids don’t like it because I insist they pick up everything and put away anything they get out as this decorating scheme just doesn’t work with any clutter whatsoever,” and she had to stop to take a breath or choke to death.

Johnny was Jane’s hardworking, police officer husband and a country boy. I could well imagine how he didn’t feel at home in this mausoleum. I also couldn’t imagine how three kids could exist in this bubble of white bareness. At that moment I was struck by a Dr. Phil moment: “Well, Jane, how is this all working out for you if Johnny and the kids aren’t happy with it? Does that take the joy out of it for you or are you still in love with stark modern bareness?”

At that moment, and there was no doubt I precipitated it, Jane broke out in tears and cried “I just hate it but it’s too late, now! Johnny’s unhappy, the kids are unhappy and I’m working myself to death just trying to cook, clean and keep everything picked up. If I knew a way to make this house feel like a home again, I would.”

“Well, you used to know how to make it feel like a home. You know, sweet Jane, it doesn’t matter if a family lives in a hovel if they’re content and happy. I’m here and I can help so let’s get going,” says old big mouth me. We moved furniture out, in, around, up, down and sideways. We gathered up every picture Jane had every loved in her life (from the garage) and hung them in groups throughout the house. We broke out the antique quilts her mother had made and put them on the beds along with the beautiful bedcovers, shams and pillows she’d hidden in closets. We broke out rugs she’d stored, set the coffee pot back out on the kitchen counter, put colorful placemats on her kitchen island and put her antique China collection on display again.

To make a long story even longer I spent the rest of the afternoon helping Jane turn her house into a family home again. Is hard core modern a definite decorating trend? Yes. Is it workable for a young family? That depends on the family. Should one put a tiny, tiny piece of art on a huge wall? If I’ve got something very valuable, like in the thousands of dollars category and I want to make sure it’s noticed and displayed with no interference the answer is yes. If all I’ve got is a tiny, cheap picture from WalMart – emphatically no.

I was making three tracks when I walked by the time I put on my jacket, picked up my purse and headed out Jane’s front door. We said our goodbyes and she closed the front door, still smiling, about the time Johnny pulled up in the driveway. He got out, gave me a big hug and asked if I was leaving already. I said I’d been there all afternoon as Jane and I had been working on some decorating dilemmas. His face brightened up immediately.

“Is my recliner back in the den?” he hesitantly asked. I assured him it was, told him goodbye and was nearly to my truck as he opened the front door to his home. I heard a loud “Oh, yeah, baby!” just as I was closing the pickup door. I thought about it all the way home. Décor does not a home make. Peace, comfort, tranquility and familiar surroundings are what give any structure that connotation.

Of course, living alone as a single lady a few “Oh, yeah, baby’s” wouldn’t hurt either!