One of my first posts on this blog was about the concept of hygge.
As part of being a real live adult with a home, Scrubs and I are in the middle of an attempted renovation. Nothing fancy, nothing exotic – no quilted leather walls or extensions for the craftroom I dream of eventually having – just making the place more home-y, more calming, more hygge.
I am not a tidy person; I am always late for everything and so my last moments in the house are often frantic scrambles to get myself together. Since I never leave myself enough time to go through everything in a relaxed and methodical manner, I instead turn into a human hurricane, flinging items out of the wardrobe with reckless abandon until I’ve found what I’m looking for. Then I dash out the door, only to come home several hours later to a room that looks like a bombsite.
Naturally by that stage I’m already late for something else, so I don’t have time to tidy up…
And so it goes.
The only exception to this rule is if everything looks exactly as it should.
If my place looks staged – as if it’s been set up by Chip and Joanna Gaines before a viewing – with everything exactly where it should be, down to the candles and the plants and the woollen throws, then my Dr. Junkyard Jekyll turns into Ms. Houseproud Hyde. Even one thing out of place will rub me the wrong way. I need things to look right. If they don’t look right to start with then there’s no point in even bothering, but if they look right and then somebody moves something… woe betide them.
I don’t honestly know where this comes from or why this is. Unfortunately, as I said, this strange compulsion only comes over me when things look exactly right, which doesn’t happen very often. At the present moment, the only thing that looks exactly right is the bedroom, and even that could really do with a rug and a coat of paint. I’m almost afraid to get the place done up exactly as I’m imagining it, because I have a not-completely-unfounded fear I’ll turn into some sort of monster of meticulousness*.
Luckily hygge life gives a lot of scope for flexibility, since it’s all about cosy reading nests, and soft textures (very important), and low lighting, and making yourself a relaxing refuge from the world. Hopefully with the aid of candles and white linen and soft blankets and white-stained oak and a lick of paint the place will turn into the most beachy beachhouse that isn’t at all a beachhouse in any way.
So far I have a few questions though:
- Why all the floral bedsets? What is up with that? I am not a floral fan.
- What is a thread count and when does it matter and should I even care?
- How do you choose the right pillow?**
- a) How difficult is stripping wallpaper?
- And part b) am I just as well painting over it?
- How can I create storage space out of thin air?
- Why is everything home-related about five times as expensive as your estimate?
- Can it be a bank holiday every week so I can use the Monday to catch up on life?
I’m off to google all these things and more.
Happy Hump Day, everyone.
*Except when I’m crafting, because that inevitably takes up every available surface (hence the need for a separate crafting room/shed/barn/house)
**At this stage I think I need an Ollivander-style shop where the pillow chooses me…