Why I'm Throwing in the Towel on Perfection

I'm sitting in my living room, staring at my white walls, attempting to decide on a color to paint them. I've put it off for nearly two years, because its a rather tall room, and I really liked the white just fine, but recently I started feeling as though the holes needed to be patched, and a fresh coat of paint might be in order. This is one of the many reasons that I hate spring. My spring cleaning/reorganizing/painting gene explodes after its winter hibernation, demanding that I organize EVERYTHING. Paint every available surface. And chastise myself for not doing so already. Oh, and the tornadoes. I don't love that about spring either.

When I'm in search of design ideas, I always turn to Pinterest. Because that is what Pinterest is for- to house your creative thoughts and provide tutorials on how to make salsa from scratch, and match your pillows to your bed in a subtle yet beautiful way. Pinterest is home to all of the answers to my questions, but it is also home to the most doubt inducing images that one can find on the internet.

Pinterest advertises perfection. This isn't Pinterest's fault, by the way, its just doing its job. I love it and use it for everything from recipes to recording party ideas for my alter ego, who actually throws parties. But when it comes to my house... looking at Pinterest leaves me with a sense that my taste isn't good enough. That my house isn't good enough. That the things that I like must be innately incorrect, because there are articles entitled things like "Uhoh. How to decorate with that brown couch" and "How to mix patterns the RIGHT way." You know what you don't find in decorating articles? Permission to combine the use of pillows that feature animal heads, plaid, paisley blankets, a turquoise antique telephone, and your family Pendleton rug that you adore in the same room.

I closed Pinterest maybe three minutes after opening it, which is a record for me. And I came to a conclusion that I probably should have arrived at a long time ago. Perfect isn't universal. Perfect for me is going to be 100% different than perfect for someone else, because I have different tastes and demands on my life. Because I am a unique little snowflake who likes animal head pillows. And because my husband is a techny little snowflake, and needs to have copious amounts of space for computers and gadgets and things that plug in and make weird sounds. I'm not going to find another couple like us that I can steal ideas from. But that doesn't mean that my idea of perfect is any less valid. It just means that perfect for me is perfect for me.

And when you see it, if you know me, chances are you won't look at it and think "Oh good grief. Didn't anyone tell you that its a major mistake to use those prints next to each other?" You'll probably think "This looks exactly like you." And you'll think that it looks just the way it should in my house, because I am a little cloud of chaos and you wouldn't expect anything else. And you'll make sure you never ask me for decorating advice... which is probably for the best. Because I believe that plaid does indeed belong in every room of the house. And on all of my favorite clothes...