remnants of nonsense

I was an interior design student for a year. Hardest year of my life so far. I learned that I liked interior design as a hobby not as a career choice between sleepless nights and countless studio time and lack of friendship making during my formative freshmen year and changed my major first day of sophomore year.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t get giddy at the thought of paint and accessories and pillow shames. With the move into my apartment, I have had the opportunity to salvage some really awesome pieces from the great abyss known as my parent’s garage.

This dresser belonged to my great-grandmother who used it as a child. Her daughters (my grandmother and great aunt) used it when they were growing up and then my grandma placed it in my mom’s room when she was a baby. It’s over 100 years old and a solid piece of furniture but it was missing its hardware and was about six and a half different colors.

So I took it, sanded it down and painted it a vibrant, in-your-face purple. Then I found glass drawer pulls at Hobby Lobby (a store which I cannot walk into and not spend money). As my mom said last weekend, “Why didn’t we paint this thing purple years ago?”