Eight years ago hubby and I moved into our classic 1959 ranch home. It had many of the endearing qualities of mid-century construction. Built-ins in the dining room to display serving pieces, with drawers underneath. Built-ins in the hall to store linens. A paneled/finished basement family room with an ocean of red shag carpeting (that we replaced before we even moved in) and a fire place. But what would a 1959 ranch be without a classic bathroom? The master bath is a tiny square of pleasing Jersey Buttercream tile. And the true prize is the house’s main bathroom in riveting Venetian Pink.
When we first bought the house I was at odds with the Pink. I felt somehow required to dislike the Pinkness. How most un-Zen of me.
A few months after we moved in Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Tom visited. Charlotte investigated thoroughly, pointing out the peppermint we had growing under the kitchen window lest I let it go and it take over. She admired the row of neat hastas. And she gave a little laugh when she saw the Pink bathroom: “I like it,” she giggled. Now, if my tasteful, beautiful Aunt Charlotte could admire my “Mamie Doud Eisenhower” Pink bathroom, then how could I reject it? I decided promptly on an attitude adjustment.
The first thing we did was replace the toilet to a matching shade, and you can read about The-Pink-To-Date by clicking on “pink bathroom” on the right.
This year I decided that I wanted to truly become one with the Pink. To embrace the Pink. To be the Pink I never thought I could be. Follow me in this blog for the developing saga of Hubby and Snakelady’s Pink bathroom. I invite you on our journey to both embrace mid-century Pink and accessorize with a 2014 eye to style at the same time.
And, as all good stories go, this one starts with “Before” pictures:
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