apartment therapy changing the world, one room at a time

The design that most inspired me was to never, never, ever have white walls or pink bedroom carpet again.

Or a faux fur sofa.

Basically, I remember my childhood home...and do the opposite.

Well, my childhood home had tons of light (windows everywhere, skylights, an open floor plan with few doors) and now I can't stand to live anywhere that is dark and gloomy. There were also plants everywhere, and I find myself with a fairly large collection of house plants to which I'm continually adding.

But my dad is a big fan of clutter and my parents have very traditional taste in furnishings and decor (heavy, carved furniture, ornate gold-toned frames, etc.) and I prefer a cleaner, more modern look.

It's not something I usually harp on, but...

The editorial 'we' really got on our nerves in this post. You see, we don't love stripes; in fact we often think they're tacky. Our kitchen was never striped, and our parents' decor ran more toward french country than the clean modern we now favor. But one aesthetic preference that our mother did pass on successfully: she told us that the royal 'we' was both pretentious and ponderous, and that we should at all costs avoid it if we wished people not to mock us mercilessly. Good advice, then and now.

I have this slight preference towards French country styles...no idea why but that was what my entire childhood house was decorated like...

Ashley
http://rainycitystyle.blogspot.com

My parents chose to put tacky wood paneling (with hunting scenes) in just about every room of their house, which they bought in the late 80s. Their sofas are dark green. They have curtains made of black-out fabric in all the rooms where light could potentially hit a TV. It's like a big, ugly cave.

But they allowed me to paint and decorate my room however I wanted. So it was cotton candy pink, with mint green curtains (with white swags), a floral comforter and dolls everywhere.

I've pretty much maintained my aesthetic, but with a touch of theirs.

The living room and dining room in my apartment have dark green walls, but the sofa is beige and the dining room chairs are white. My husband and I have decorated with books, colorful posters, photos from our travels and toys from our childhood. The bedroom is dark red and the furniture is dark wood, but our comforter and accent pieces are white. And the big rooms all have great big windows.

We of the same mind as enmnm--

We have never subscribed to any decorating style that our Mother or other members of our family have.

If anything I take away a few basic principles my Mom uses when she did her spaces, a tad ecclectic but for her it is mostly English Traditional with more traditional colors where as I am more of the modern/MCM/mod esthetic with more mod/modern colors and such but since I rent, I am stuck with white walls (as is she and she has always preferred white walls anyway) and a blue/gray wall to wall carpet but it looks fine as long as I have pops of color to offset all that.

We both subscribe to the personal touches that make a home but not to fill it with a lot of tchockskies(sp?). We both know to hang our pictures at sitting level.

OMG I can't believe you asked this question.

My first apartment was in a prewar building, with formal living, formal dining, a back hall with phone nook, a kitchen with a back door, high ceilings and molding. A really amazing space. I got it because I showed up at the owner's apartment first, with cash. I was really lucky to get it.

I rented it sight unseen. It was horrible. Filthy dirty and each room its own primary color. Just dreadful.

With my mother's help, I repainted the entire place, and she made fully lined draperies, floor to ceiling, for the enormous living room and dining room french doors and windows.

When I was through, it was the ugliest thing you can imagine. I had channeled my nursery without realizing it. And my nursery was the ugliest thing imaginable. It had had chocolate brown wallpaper with tiny tiny tiny yellow and orange clumps of blossoms. (Why would anyone ever do that to a child's room?) I had recreated that same brown, orange and yellow environment all over the apartment. I couldn't WAIT to move. I always wondered what the next tenants thought. There must have been a hundred yards of that god awful fabric in the apartment.

When I bought my first house, I painted the whole thing white, and waited for color.

The design of my childhood home has influenced me more in a "what not to do" way. My parents tend to buy furniture sets because their area doesn't have a lot of options. I grew up in a 1960s ranch house and the bedrooms just weren't big enough to comfortably accommodate a bed, a dresser, a chest of drawers and two nightstands. Everything always felt somewhat cramped, and generally all the furniture was up against the walls just to allow for basic movement and for doors to open far enough to let people pass in and out. It gave me a lifelong distaste for packed rooms and taught me the importance of scale.

One positive thing I took from my childhood is that my mom loved to paint the walls and rearrange the furniture (as much as was possible given the constraints). It's good to experiment until you find what works best for you and the space.

My parents had full Danish modern which they bought while living in Europe and shipped back to the states. Most of the same pieces are still in my father's house (though reupholstery has changed some of the blue and orange color scheme). I think that's why so many of the AT family love that look mid-'50s/'60s! That's my reason. And all those globes and hanging monkeys...

My parents have a very cozy house... very traditional, with a neutral and red color pallet. I am definitely more modern in taste, but my mother's ability to choose out beautiful fabrics definitely influences my textiles.

Everything in our house purchased in the US was horrible wood vaneer. I think my mother still uses the entertainment stand 30 years later. I hate wood vaneer. All the finishes in the house were for crap. You wouldn't believe the psychedelic red white and blue geometric wallpaper in our playroom.

On the other hand, my parents had a lot of great furniture from England. I still love it. My sister and I will fight over it when my mom is gone (she's already putting stickers on it).

As a child I lived in Eastern Europe, and my building dated back to 1850s. We lived in a two-room apartment with 10 foot ceilings, beautiful crown moldings, brass hardware worn to a beautiful smoothness by generations of hands, parquet floor like you see in French castles- with a beautiful central floral medallion in each room; in each room there was a ceramic gas stove (like a fireplace, only closed) with the most beautiful figural tiles. One was brown-black, and another salmon-colored. The windows in the best room looked out to a magnificent cathedral. It was very hard to buy things back then, so the two rooms were furnished with simple but solid pieces. We painted the walls every five years in different jewel-toned colors.

These days I live in a college town in the Midwest, in a beautiful modernist house designed and built in mid-50s. I have mahogany paneling, newly installed cork floors, a cathedral ceiling in the living room, and a see-through fireplace. This house is very, very different from my childhood home, and yet the architecture is beautiful. I look for beautiful architecture and light, no matter what period.

Oh, and I also have some of my father's paintings, and I bought a Le Creuset pot that is similar to my grandmother's cast iron pot.

For most of my childhood, our house was a dull, boring white. WHITE! GAH! It felt like a hospital, especially with my mother's OCD habits about cleaning and putting things back EXACTLY how you found them. (Notice that I didn't say 'where' you found them, but 'how' you found them.)

As a result, I like lots of bold color, modern art, strange retro furniture with good bones and pretty fabrics. My style is "Retro Chic" according to several sites (although that totally screams ugly orange shag carpet and blaringly green enamel lights) and points out specifically that I look for odd and unique items.

My mother's were always boring and plain, with modest, durable fabrics that would wear well, glossy paint that would wash well, and cushions were never allowed on the floor.

My wife and I just bought a house. We walked outside to admire it from across the street at sunset and suddenly it struck me . . . it looks like the house I grew up in. Not exactly, but enough that when I mentioned it, she gasped (and she's not really the gasping type).

Other than that one thing? Not too much.

My mom's house has always been stylish and comfortable... Napa style, with modern and vintage pieces side to side. Since moving into a house from apartments, I find myself leaning way more eclectic, and coveting vignettes my mom has discarded in the garage. Her house is so comfortable and cozy, yet clean and not cluttered.

She told me the other day that she's never done decorating...something to look forward to, I guess!

There were five of us packed into a rather small wood-frame house, and while it was homey enough, there really was very little style about it. Frankly I still have none of my own, but it never keeps me awake nights. And here's an aside to "ysmine," up top: You must have a quite delicate nervous system if "the editorial 'we' " irritates it. It's easy to overdo it, but one of the first things you learn in j-school is never, not even in a personal column, to go on and on about "I," "me," "mine." Drink tea, relax, your nerves will be fine, even in the presence of the editorial "we."

My parents rarely ever bought a new piece of furniture, everything was scavenged from antique stores or markets. This has left me with a hatred of new, cheap mass produced furniture and an appreciation of old, one of a kind pieces. Plus I got to take everything that was in my room as a child, which includes a big old travellers trunk and cast iron bed...

I was thinking this exact question the last couple of days. I've been redecorating and sprucing up my apartment. Now that my living room is nearing completion, I've come to this unsettling realization: I've recreated my parents' living room! At first I told myself that I created an "idealized" version of my childhood home. But now I think, "Nah, I just just recreated it verbatim." I must be trying to work out some childhood issues or something. I think all of our design choices are in direct relation to how our parents decorated. We either follow their example, or oppose it.

My mom was big on rearranging furniture and my sister and I are also happy little decorators and rearrangers. The fairly sturdy, well made traditional furniture generally stayed the same over the years, but moved around from room to room. We had mostly traditional style furniture with a touch of Palm Beach 70's style (a la Jonathan Adler) in our 1920's colonial.
The five kids are about to go back to the old house and clean everything out 45 years after my parents bought it. Divvying up the dated stuff will be interesting...

The royal whoever is no excuse to be rude. There are other ways to go about it. Rebecca is not putting together these posts for the money. If you are looking to mock mercilessly surely you are at the wrong site.

My mom was a packrat, so our home was always a total mess. I think that is the main reason why my design aesthetic has swung totally the opposite direction - minimal and enclosed in cupboards.

It influenced me to have solid hardwood pieces and to have industrial-quality items for durability and best value.

I grew up in 1920's era bungalows and that is the home style I prefer.

If you're that concerned about that flatware, go to Replacements, Inc, and take a look. Is it marked on the back with the manufacturer?

h144--Rebecca's not getting paid here? Since when?

My parents had great stuff, they died, and now I have lots of it.

lots of light and architectural details. they seem like necessities to me now.

buying high quality furniture rarely rather than cheap furniture often.

lots of lovely heirlooms I can't wait to get my hands on!

I do the opposite. There was absolutely no design at all in the homes I grew up in - it was just stuff in spaces. As a result, I try to be very conscientious about the way I decorate my home. Everything belongs. There is thoughtfulness in every detail. No accidents, no settling. And, most importantly, no yellowed lace drapes.

Growing up in Scandinavia, I find myself liking all the photos from Sköna Hem posted on this site.

My childhood homes had white walls (that grassy beige wallpaper, light white-on-white stripes and some other off-white surfaces, all wallpaper and white wood paneling) light birch hardwood flooring, non-romantic, simple pine and leather furniture with straight lines and no frills, and light colored textiles.

My room had white half-paneling in white, birch flooring, white wallpaper with little yellow butterflies, white wicker furniture, and light blue textiles. Crocheted quilt on my bed.

And what's my home like in the states? Orange and crazy aqua walls, dark wood furniture. I guess this is me rebelling. I'm pretty sure my next one will be more serene.

But never-ever knotty pine. Ever.

My childhood home (like Anaïs Nin's) had each room decorated in a different color, so I've never, ever feared using color to punch up a room.

Eclectic antiques? Check. (I favor different eras than my parents, of course.)

Lots of books, which I actually read? Check.

Great-grandma's sewing console, bench, and notions chest? Check.

Cat hair on everything? Check. (Ha.)

That said, there are some things I'll never willingly repeat in my own home, like the dark gray wall-to-wall carpet from one house or the uneven saltillo tiles from another. I'm also trying very, very hard to get away from my inherited pack-rat tendencies.

When I was a kid my father painted the living room "summer sand" (aka beige) and liked it so much that he kept painting all the other rooms in the same colour. Every morning I woke up and it seemed like another part of the house had been beiged up. And then of course over the years the whole place gradually got completely sucked into the Vortex of Beige, where everything got painted in or replaced with various shades of cream, biscuit, mushroom, almond, cappucino etc.

So I am of course traumatised for life and can't be in the same room as anything pale brown. It's no coincidence that my username is IDontDoBeige.

One other thing from my childhood that has influenced my current style - it's the same beige-victim father, who is excellent at quality DIY and without whom I wouldn't have been able to create the beautiful white-with-pops-of-colour, beige-free palace that I live in today. Thanks Dad :D

Yes, we never had that much money but my mother would rather buy less and then invest in some more expenisve pieces, that I have now inherited and are in my new home.
I also prefer to keep it simple, just like my childhood home was.

To some extent...I still like country traditional (my childhood home) but I try to do it with a modern flair. And I will never own a recliner - LOL - since we always had two.

Without a doubt. My childhood ranch home was transformed inside by my dad, who added molding and paneling, built-in bookcases and box window valences. I always knew it would be my standard forever. Luckily, I have a good husband who helps me realize that childhood home in our new home.

I think my parents' style has influenced my taste in the outside of houses more than the inside. When we decided to move out of the tiny, ugly ranch (with terrible wall-to-wall carpet, even in the bathrooms) we lived in through my early childhood, they built a big craftsman-bungalow-inspired house next door with hardwood floors. I'm now living in an area with lots of beautiful old bungalows, one of which I will eventually buy, someday.

They tend to go with heavy mission style furniture, which I appreciate though it isn't my favorite, while I tend towards a lighter, quirkier, modern style, which they also appreciate though it isn't their favorite. But there are a few pieces they've bought over the years (a big bright fluffy chair and a big bright persian type rug, for example) that I do love and will probably take when I can.

My mother had awful taste - I will never forget the pale purple bathroom with mauve shag carpet. Or the mint green living room.

I grew up in a 1920's bungalow/cottage in Echo Park, which I still adore and am constantly influenced by: it has crown molding... the original enameled gas stove (which I am just waiting to get my hot little hands on, even though it's too big and heavy to move)... a wide porch... beadboard ceilings... tons and tons of windows and natural light breezes... high ceilings... white walls and warm wood floors, and plants everywhere. And lots of art! my parents have no real furniture style, but my mom always has fantastic accessories. My parents still live there and the place is in pretty bad shape... I daydream of taking it over and doing a restoration, but I think I'd just have to knock it down and salvage what I could (termites dry rot leaky basement horrible attic fiberglass insulation lead paint messed up foundation/settling/warped floors... sigh). At any rate, I live in an Edwardian apartment in SF now with high ceilings, wood floors, molding, tons of light and an indoor-outdoor vibe... but we did paint the walls in color because white was just too "cold" feeling up in the frozen north! And I will always have tons of plants. =)

This is very funny. I just moved into a new apartment with huge dreams of dream decor. Everything I gravitated towards was bright grass green (luckily back in style but also the color of the carpet in my bedroom growing up). I even found this early american couch on Craigslist (I was torn between thinking it was dreadful or amazing). When I asked my mom for a second opinion she started laughing and reminded me that my dad had a rocking chair while I was growing up that looking like it was the couch's long lost soul mate. Now that I am done with the living room (thankfully passed over the CL couch), I planned my dining room bright yellow and white, only to find myself downstairs in my parents basement face-to-face with our old yellow and white formica kitchen table...I guess you really can't escape it.