What bland optimism. Just look at all those smiling, happy white people. If there was ever a more striving crawl towards generic homogeneity, I’d like to hear about it. And if this utopia was built in the 40s and disintegrated in the 60s, then for a moment it existed — for some — in the calm center of the storm of the world, 1950s America. Let’s look at the colors used to sell this story.
I've posted pictures of similar techniques before, but what I found both exciting and challenging about this project was the location — it’s an intriguing room architecturally, and it’s also located in a big house in the woods.
I’ve written before about the autocratic, pyramid-shaped, top-down influences of high fashion on much of the rest of merchandising. For example, two years ago we saw a neon palette on the runways, a few months later fashion editors were wearing those same colors, and last summer we saw neon sneakers, windbreakers and bicycle tires everywhere.
One of the big mistakes a lot of people make when choosing colors for a space is trying out too many colors at one time. In my opinion, if you put too
many colors up on the wall at once, all you’re really looking at is a
mosaic or a quilt. The colors
start to form new relationships with one another, and the eye doesn’t know how
to sort them out.
A few years ago I wrote about a distressed glazing technique
which has a distressed feel to it, a way we developed to add visual texture to your walls that doesn't like
a stock rag rolling. Here, we take this process one step
Other people might have been turned off by this wallpaper, but I said keep it… or at least, keep it for now until future renovations. While much other work is going on in the rest of the house,
this wallpaper can stay put for the nonce — look closer and it’s actually sweet
and quaint, of an indeterminate “old” style. The one thing dragging it down was that odious pink paint on
the millwork. Something had to be done.