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Married Furniture…

“I finally got rid of my married furniture,” says a friend. She’s been divorced for about ten years. It takes that long.

I know exactly what she means. Living with the remnants. No matter how beautiful, expensive or tasteful, furnishings contain memories. In her case of a bad boy husband. In my case, a dead one.

I got a new couch. I had to. I, too, got rid of my married furniture. Our reasons are different but very much the same. Every time I sat in one of the pair of chairs in my living room, all I saw was the conversation area in our house before The Norwegian dropped dead. It’s where Sunday morning coffee and news of the week came to life. Sharing newspapers in pajamas, each glancing over at the other when they’re not looking.

When we picked the chair pair with over large ottoman and that particular couch, we had just purchased a new house and had that heady feel that only decorating brings. For some, decorating is better than skinny and well-dressed combined. Almost. It’s the fitted dress and pearls of home.

But, like my friend, the time had come.

So now? The room appears more sophisticated, less family. It looks like a single person, a woman, lives here. The curved edges of the mid century chairs-well I had to get chairs-what’s a new couch without chairs? Pfft. It’s created a decidedly different vibe than the married furniture. There was no thought to whether the room may look too feminine. The last time I bought furniture with only my opinion involved was, well, never.

Women are much more affected by surroundings. Not a girl worth her pearls can comfortably perch upon a tattered, frayed, musty old thing and feign joy. Perhaps it’s the instinctual nesting that comes with biology. Who knows? Perhaps it’s the interior designer inside us. Sort of like building an outfit. And now my living room is wearing stilettos instead of well-worn, but super cute, tennies.

Decorating is one of those dream jobs, non? If I could decorate and garden all day, wait, I’d be Martha Stewart and happy as a child on a snow day. Not now, during COVID, but in the old days. By the way, have you see that girl lately? At 79, she puts the rest of us to shame. She says no facelift, only Juvederm every six months. She claims diet and lifestyle are the secret. See? Decorating and the work of home can make you beautiful. And rich if you do it right.

All I know is, it was time to shed skin and morph into the latest version of butterfly. And that girl is wearing heels.

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