Melissa Summers writes to Suburban Bliss, a blog about, well, Suburban Bliss. She first sent us the following post, then retracted it explaining, “I sent this and then realized this has nothing to do with the topic. I guess I didn’t realize it earlier because designing a house with [my husband] Logan is a little like designing a house with a child.” Ta-da — there’s the tie-in.
My sister in law has exquisite taste and she pretty much makes the design decisions in the house she and my brother share. She once asked my brother what color he thought would be good in the dining room. He replied, “Anything but yellow.” The dining room is yellow.
They told us that story over dinner one night and I stared at them and at my husband and I wondered, why the hell I married an artist. There are no simple design decisions in my house, rather there are complex design battles.
My husband is a little ‘particular’ about details. It started when we registered for our wedding. My friend’s fiancÃ© wanted nothing to do with the registration process, but not my fiancÃ©. He wanted to be there to help choose everything for our home together. We did okay with things like cookware and small appliances, but we found ourselves heading to marital therapy by the time we had to choose bed linens.
“No FLORAL” my future husband declared in a department store blooming with floral linens.
“But what about a very subtle floral like this?” I asked.
We ended up with a chambray and plaid set of bedding better suited to a 14-year-old boy’s room than a newly married couple. Every night I lay on those sheets I thought to myself, “I could have married a lawyer. A lawyer with no design sense whatsoever. But no, now I’m doomed to sleep in the room of a 14-year-old boy for the rest of my life.”
A month ago I bought new bedding and the bedding has a very subtle floral quality to it. He didn’t like it from the minute he saw it on the bed, but it’s already there. What a pain it would be to repackage and return! So it’s stayed put for nearly six weeks now. In eight years of marriage I’ve learned the secret to my husband’s design sensibilities: Don’t ask, just do.
Read more Suburban Bliss.