I did not decorate my house to impress anyone. (But I used to. More on that later.)
There is a hot pink TV console in my living room. Teal kitchen cabinets. A gallery wall that has a California surf print, a blinged out surfboard, paintings I did myself, pieces from several local artists I love, things I found on Facebook Marketplace, at garage sales, on clearance racks. I just buy what I love. That is the only rule.
For me, a decorated space looks a certain way. A lived-in space feels a certain way. Mine feels like Sunday morning. Like a long conversation. Like something is always blooming on the table and the dogs are always underfoot and Marissol has probably left her shoes or socks somewhere in the living room.
There is always a book somewhere I am either in the middle of or desperate to start. I used to read constantly. (I built a library in my guest room!) These days I listen to a lot of audiobooks, mostly while I work. Stitching leather, cutting straps, finishing edges, and somewhere in my headphones a story is unfolding. I love crime fiction, anything British, anything international. Vera. Shetland. Ted Lasso broke my heart in the best way and made me a better person. And watching All Creatures Great and Small with my mom on Sunday nights is one of my favorite things I do all week.
My kitchen is teal because I painted it myself and it made me feel alive during that time right after my dad passed away. A time when being alive was a struggle. My living room has a pink console because I found it on Facebook Marketplace for $20, knew I wanted something bold on that wall, and chose that color for me. Not for resale value. For me.
This is what protecting my peace actually looks like. It is building a life, room by room, choice by choice, where everything in it was chosen on purpose and nothing was chosen because it was expected.
I make bags the same way. One at a time. Only what I love. Only what I'm proud to put my name on.
You can tell a lot about a person by what they choose to keep close. This is who I am.
