In recent years, I’ve started to come to terms with a part of me that I’ve spent a lot of time and energy burying or otherwise ignoring: I really like being domestic.
Home — in the sense that home is both as a physical place and a feeling of comfort — is incredibly important to me. We moved around a lot when I was little, and we finally settled in Colorado until I was 16. Then, the summer before my junior year in high school, we moved across the country to a small town in Pennsylvania. We only lived there for a few years, though, and I spent the next decade never being anywhere long enough to really put down roots.
I spent a long time feeling uprooted and unmoored, and I found that I consistently longed for a place I could call home.
I remember driving back from dinner one winter night during college and taking a route that happened to go through a neighborhood, only to feel incredibly envious of all the occupants of the houses I drove by. Their homes looked so cozy, so comforting, so soothing. I imagined them being filled with happy, loving families who’d sit together on an over-stuffed couch while sharing popcorn and watching a movie.
And I really, really, really wanted that for myself.
As a consequence of this, my nesting instincts have always resembled those of a pregnant lady on speed. I’m acutely attuned to my environment, and as I’ve realized lately, damned if I don’t really enjoy it.
So, here’s my confession: I love being domestic. I love making a house a home. I love decorating, I love feeling rooted, and I love simply spending time at home.
I’ve spent years denying that I actually enjoy all this, but I’ve recently decided to embrace that side of my personality. My attempts to repress it into an oblivion didn’t work (obviously…as if they ever do, right?), so my new policy has been to just roll with it. Ain’t no shame in that, y’all.
With all that in mind, I’m going to brazenly steal a post format from the lovely Sarah from Nourish and Flourish (side note: her blog is freakin’ awesome, and I hiiiiiiiiiighly recommend that you go check it out). In the spirit of her Totally Unnecessary Wish List post, I decided to do my own totally unnecessary wish list, but to focus it on embracing my love of all things domestic. Soooo…
If I had an outrageous amount of money, I’d build my ultimate dream house. (Side note: all the pictures below come from Pinterest. I once heard someone describe Pinterest as Fantasy Football for women, and I’m pretty sure that’s the most accurate possible description.) It’d be amazing, y’all. I’d rather go for quality over size — I wouldn’t want it to be some gargantuan monstrosity that eats up half a city block — but it’d have some pretty awesome stuff.
Because I love cooking (and, since I’d have an outrageous amount of money in this scenario, I presumably would be able to work from home doing something I really love — and would thus have time to cook more elaborate dinners), my kitchen would look like this:
And, because I’m a sucker for things like built-in bookshelves and quirky architectural details, I’d have cool and unexpected stuff like this breakfast nook:
Since a woman’s work is never done, I might as well experience some spa-ish, Zen-like calm and tranquility while slaving over the laundry. Woo-sah, y’all:
I’m a serious nerd, which means I have more books than I know what to do with. (Thank God for my Kindle, which is the world’s greatest space-saver.) If I were obscenely wealthy, though, I’d make room for all my beloved books with some seriously innovative built-in shelves (replete with cozy spaces for reading):
Because I’m a girl — and let’s call it like it is, I’m pretty girly in my love of clothes, shoes, and accessories — (read this part in the snobbiest possible way; think Anna Wintour meets the singing candelabra dude from Beauty and the Beast) adequate closet space would be crucial. Behold.
Let’s not forget about the bathroom, either. As someone who currently does the hygiene dance (“You’re in the way of the sink, dude, and I need to wash my hands.” “Dude, I need to get to my toothbrush.” “Dude, I can’t reach my towels when the door is open and you’re standing in front of it brushing your teeth!”) with her husband, a big bathroom is key. I figure this should suffice (a walk-in shower? I suppose I could live with that):
The only difference would be that mine would be more Middle East-inspired; for example, I’d go with Moroccan-shaped arches instead of the Medieval European style arches. They’d look kind of like this:
Oh, and while we’re on the topic of bathrooms, I love me a good bath. A dedicated bathtub — better yet, a sunken-in bathtub that closely resembles a Turkish hammam — would be amazeballs.
I’m also pretty sure Brandon would love a dedicated space for movie watching and sports spectating from afar (aka: watching the Spurs on TBS), so I figure he wouldn’t object to a media room. Who needs a man cave when you can have a theater?
Since, in this scenario, I’d be obnoxiously wealthy and money would be no object, I’d also get myself a house in the desert. As you may have gathered from my bajillon posts about how homesick I am, I really miss the West. For lack of ability to live there full-time, I’d get us a vacation home in the desert that we could visit in order to calm the overwhelming pull Westward:
This house would have a garden of succulents and cacti, which are among my favorite plants:
It’d have a pool where I could relax and read to my nerdy little heart’s content:
And, perhaps most importantly, it’d have a huge skylight in the bedroom:
One of my favorite childhood memories was created on a fall evening a few months after we’d moved to Colorado, when my dad and I sat outside and looked at the stars. As we sat on lawn chairs in the back yard, he pointed out the different constellations that I’d been learning about in school. I’d never seen so many stars in my life, and I was awe-struck. The night was clear, there was no light pollution — a relic of old-timey Colorado that has since gone the way of the velociraptor — and I was able to see the Milky Way. I was amazed, and to this day, I get incredibly excited at the thought of being able to see the Milky Way. In this magical desert house, I’d be able to see this each night:
Now, if only I could win the lottery! 🙂
So tell me, lovely readers: if you could live anywhere, where would you go? What do you think is the most important feature in a house? What would you do if you won the lottery? What’s your favorite childhood memory?