Balancing Act...

The other day a friend referred to the interior design of my house as minimalist/mid-century modern. I had to stop and think about it for a minute. Yes, there's a lot of clean lines, wide open spaces and the 1980s contemporary design of the house definitely leans into that. While I certainly didn't mind his description, I've always thought I had a real mix of styles going on with my home. Give me modern and clean, give me antique and vintage and give me industrial/factory worn. That's what I like to shoot for. The key to making all these styles work together is balance. Years ago, when I co-owned a large Victorian on Court Street in Keene, I went all out for antiques to match those gorgeous plaster moldings and heavy mahogany doors. When it came time to renovate the kitchen, though, I thought we needed a little juxtaposition to all that ornateness. So, I went industrial. Vintage walk-in freezer caged lights ringed the perimeter of the room and centered under them was a commercial stainless-steel island on wheels that served as prep space galore. The hardwood floor was in tough shape, but we simply sanded it and coated it with a glossy clear urethane to help light bounce around the large room. We also installed a big 6-burner gas stove bought from a restaurant supply outfit. Softening the space just a bit was a set of glass-door wall cabinets we had made and a vintage kitchen table that I'd grown up eating at. With the table we paired six Ikea jet-black chairs. A little contrast within a juxtaposed room. For the last few years, the phrases minimalism and maximalism have kept bubbling up. While minimalism is a little easier to grasp with those clean lines, low profiles and airy spaces, maximalism is a little trickier. As the name would suggest, a maximalist décor is one that's loaded with things. To make it all work together without looking like a rummage sale, learning the art of layering takes a good eye and lots of practice. Visualize a light-filled room in an old Brownstone in New York. You've already got the drama with the high ceilings, carved plaster molding and shiny hardwood floors. Throw a faux leopard skin rug down and plop a brass and glass coffee table on it with a lush green velvet sofa at its edge. Turn the wall behind the sofa into a gallery wall — a mixture of photos and miniature thrift store paintings. Pulling them together is the frames all painted antique gold that ties in with the brass of the table and the golds of the leopard skin. Flanking one side of the sofa could be a bookcase loaded with books sorted by their jacket colors; some standing, some stacked lying flat. A couple spots are filled with small art pieces, maybe a mirror. Then add in a few curiosity pieces that fit your personality. For me it might be a bleached cow jawbone and a glass cloche (dome) with a preserved bird's nest attached to a branch. And, so on and so on. You get the idea. Decorating style can be a mix of timeless pieces as well as things that are incredibly personal to you yet give off a certain aura. Whether you like dramatic and vivid, traditional yet cozy or light filled and barely furnished, none of it has to cost a fortune either. Once you decide what your style is (and it's perfectly fine to look at magazines and Pinterest for inspiration), then you have a clear goal of the types of things you're looking for. That green velvet sofa? You can go high brow and spend $3,500 for a hand-tied designer piece or you can check out Wayfair, Walmart or Amazon and get one for $600. Want one of those stainless steel prep counters on wheels? You can go directly to a restaurant supply company or Google "used restaurant equipment" and save yourself some money (though you might have to travel to get it.) I'm not a big fan of anything leopard print, frankly, but I do like a good sun-bleached jawbone and I've got one propped between family photos and books on a bookcase in the living room. And once our old cat is gone, I think I'll start shopping around for a green velvet sofa.