And the couch. I love it’s sheen. I remember it being almost satin-y. Ugly as hell, but nice to run your hand down.
But at some point in the 90’s, we re-decorated. Let’s not brighten the place up anymore. Let’s stick with brown. It goes fabulously with the burnt orange carpet. Yes, let’s stick with what we know.
And here folks, is where I get my dislike of matchy-matchy…the afghan. Most likely crocheted by my dad’s mother, it showed just how well brown and orange go together. But my mom was clearly onto something. What, I’m not sure though. Check out the lamps. They are light gray…with pink and white flowers. I know my mom just thought that they were pretty and could’ve cared less that they didn’t “go” with the new living room furniture. And I know she thought I probably wouldn’t be re-hashing these decorating nightmares almost 20 years later. So there you have it, the reason we can’t figure out where I got this tendency to care what things look like. We won’t even start on the black hose and pumps I was rocking.
Share with me, the horrors you grew up looking at. And no, I don't mean your creepy next-door neighbors. Was your furniture covered in plastic? Any scratchy floral couches? Scare me!