That must be the answer. Sarcastically over lunch today, I asked my nine-year-old if he’d like me to make him a fake fur bedspread. “Sure,” he said.
Turning to the six-year-old, who I’d hoped had more fashion sense than his brother: “How would you like to live in a room like this?”
Him: “Yeah, I like it.”
Proof enough for me. The seventies were designed by young boys.
I came across this too-cheesy-to-pass-up sewing book at a used book shop today, and thought $2 was well worth the entertainment it would bring me. I’m all over those ’70’s sheets and pillowcases that pop up in thrift shops – love the bold patterns and funky colors. They are fabulous accents when paired with a more reasonable neutral background. In fact, the sheet that they used to make all of these closet accessories is the same one that I got an 18×22 piece of in a swap and later turned into this nifty bag. I love the bag, but no way do I want to cover my entire bedroom in this pattern. One small quarter-yard piece is plenty for me.
How was it that I managed to forget that thirty (nearly forty!) years ago, all of that color and pattern was not relegated to “accent” status, but was truly the main attraction? Selective memory, perhaps?
If this were my kitchen, I would most likely claw my eyes out over breakfast.
“Not tonight, honey, I have a plaid-and-gingham-induced headache.”
Here’s the least offensive room in the whole book. Replace the fabric wall hanging with a nice painting, re-cover the couch with a dark solid neutral, paint the walls a pale aqua color, and maybe I could live there without going blind.
If you ever catch me feeling nostalgic for that “vintage seventies style,” please remind me of this: it is revisionist history that remembers those fun florals and geometrics as tastefully-used accent pieces instead of the riotous explosion of color that they truly were.
And then slap me upside the head for good measure 😀