With notebook, pencil, and tape measure in hand I went to every shop I knew that dealt with building, remolding and design only to discover more shops and more ideas.
Tile shops, flooring shops, bathroom shops, kitchen shops, shops about light, hardware and fabric shops... I am shopped out.
Brocanting in one thing I am never overwhelmed about doing. Brocanting is about old, it is about the hunt to find something beautiful, about the art of negotiating, about history... Shopping for a remodel is about structure, deadlines, budget, needed inventory, hammer and nail. It is about following the plan. Oh yeah the plan! The one in my head, the one I have yet to put on paper.
Going to shops and hardware stores is a welcome surprise. Everything inspires me to see things differently. The ideas are endless. I like modern clean lines, I do. I like the new kitchens that are showing in France, like laboratories, sleek, glass counter tops (non breakable) islands in the center that hold everything. Kitchen that do not look like kitchens, but more like places to mingle. A new concept in France where kitchen were often in the back of the apartment and small.
But then as I turn the corner, I am instantly in love with the stone and rough wooded design kitchen with steel knobs, and over the top chandeliers adding another dimension.
I waver between doing something different, edgy, clean and highly functional, completely off my beaten track, away from my brocant-ing self.
Going to "new" shops does this to me. I easily influenced. Tomorrow I will probably start wearing red.
French Husband says practical and functional are two words that almost sound abnormal coming out of my mouth, he touched my forehead to see if I was ill.
Two men sitting in an ancient tower's window.
They are not thinking about new, modern, red, nor the latest vogue. Stone work yes. Recreating history. Girl watching yes. Distraction exists, and from it daydreams form into concrete ideas. At least that is how I roll.
I said to a friend, "I need a color theme." She told me to pick three colors. I said, "Sand, pavement and slices of silver." She repeated, "Beige, grey and white. Now stick to it, use that as your base."
But she didn't see the aubergine nor the tangerine.
But she did see the black table and encouraged me to buy it.
The deadline, "April 3rd," she says with a laugh. And so it begins the countdown to getting it together by first decided which way to go.
Modern, old, sleek, worn... beige, pavement, slices of aubergine?
The middle sounds good doesn't it?