I love my house.
Let me just say it again, I love my house.
I love the great tall ceilings and the leaded glass in the living and dining rooms. I love the cozy fireplace and the Victorian-era woodwork. I love the quirky upstairs bathroom and my office with the view of the backyard.
I do not, however, love the wallpaper.
Yes, there are acres and acres of wallpaper in this house. A veritable museum of wallpapers. And so I bring to you my study:
"It Takes a Village (to tear all this stuff down): A Study of American Wallpapers, circa 1970"
FIGURE 1: A delicate montage of daisies, cosmos, and monarch butterflies in tones of murky and murkier
FIGURE 2: An elegent faux-toile in shades of sage and dirty grey:
FIGURE 3: A garden of peach roses scattered over white frilly bits:
FIGURE 4: Um...daggers? half-completed crucifixes?
FIGURE 5: A scrubland scene viewed through dust-stained windows during a rainstorm:
FIGURE 6: Mud viewed through dust-stained windows during a rainstorm:
FIGURE 7: Invasion of the blue butterflies:
FIGURE 8: Just turn the lights off, please!
FIGURE 9: It only gets worse:
FIGURE 10: Was butterscotch the only color they had back then?
FIGURE 11: And my personal favorite. This isn't wallpaper; it's FABRIC. Nothing like some naughty bathing scenes to keep you entertained while you brush your teeth in the morning.
This concludes our study of American wallpapers, circa 1970. I'm sure it all looked stunning at the time. And I'm sure that my children or grandchildren will think I'm stark raving mad for thinking it's ugly. What do you think?