The Dolls are nothing if not trendy, depending on the trend of course. I’m not, but they are. My advice remains the same year after year. Set the table properly, wear pearls and smile when you really want to scream, F-U. Same goes for the home–my taste travels to European traditional but I fully embrace your right to modern. Maybe not embrace it, but recognize you can do whatever the hell you want in your own home. We’d never tell you how to decorate. We would, however, suggest that you do. Mish-mash is never en vogue.
A home trend stealing hearts everywhere is the succulent garden. These aren’t your average everyday cacti.These are colorful, sweet little potted cuties that decorate yards, shelves, walls and teacups. Colors, blooms and creepers are all mixed. It’s the next addition to this girl’s patio.
That is if I can get rid of the damn chair. I have a chair–a massive chair with ottoman. It came from a formerly fancy Scottsdale furnishing addiction funded by a live husband. Point is–it’s a nice chair. Moving from the manse, it made its way to Oldest Chicken’s apartment. He flew the coop to San Diego and the chair landed on my balcony. Too big to take up permanent outdoor residence, it awaits a home. Each day the door bangs into it, I curse the chair gods and know I am that much further from the succulent garden for which I pine.
Adding irritation is that I am not usually drawn to trends. Sheath dress, heels and pearls do not a trendsetter make. A fashionista worth her salt but a setter of what’s new, not so much. Me gripped by a trend is akin to a gila monster letting go.
I dream of baby succulents lining the edge of the balcony and filling the shelves of a rack that sits out there behind the damn chair, screaming, “I’m perfect for potted plants and trailing beauties that beckon girls with wine outside.”
If I lived somewhere other than The Dale, I would enlist Middle Chicken and haul the thing out to the street only to cheer its disappearance come morning. Such things are frowned upon not only in my complex but pretty much all round The Dale. Not really a drag your junk out to the street kind of town.
Dream slumber last eve included hollowing out the chair and filling it with succulents. The obsession has gone too far. Somebody come and get the damn chair–succulents are calling.
I don’t want my first foray into trendy to come and go before I have the chance to participate. Pfft.
The Duchess Diaries 