The library / study / drawing room

I confess, it's a bit of a misnomer to call it a library, or to think that any studying or drawing happens here. Perhaps previous owners indulged in those pastimes. For me, it's really more of a let's-have-a-glass-of-wine-and-get-our-Bravo-TV-on kind of room. But, I digress.

Here's the library as it looked when we toured the house. Has potential, right? To me, that barrel vault ceiling just screamed, "brick me!" But, I also hear voices. 

Same view, after. I still want to add a custom cut seagrass rug and layer a real zebra skin rug over it. The wall color and drapes in the sunroom (where I'm standing) is really more of a caramel apple color. Not green. At all.

The room has wonderful original millwork and glass leaded cabinetry. It's hard to see from the original photograph above, but the area above the firebox slanted back to meet the top of the crown moulding. How was I supposed to get my daily dose of Andy Cohen? We had the moulding copied and created a house for that flatscreen. It still needs it's final coat of paint, though. Also, those shelves need to be styled. Seriously.

The original leaded glass windows look out onto our back patio, which didn't exist when we purchased the house. 

My favorite spot.

The fact that my wine glass looks less full here is just an optical illusion. Uh-huh.

That's me in the spotlight.

This is one of my favorite accessories. His eyes totally creep out my husband, who sees them as open. To me, they look closed. Some day I'll take a picture of him head on and we'll find out once and for all. Regardless, if my husband wants to join me in a Bravo/Real Housewives moment, he must do so with Mr. Stink Eye holding his beverage.

A closeup of the brick detail. It's faux. Real.

A little doorknob crush. Secret: they're not original. Sometimes newer is better, unless you're a Real Housewife. Then you're just fodder for my boy, Andy.

You can be tardy for the party...

She had what my mother would have called "good bones." You know, the kind of girl that strikes you with her unconventional beauty. High cheek bones. Prominent features. Nicely arched brows. Even at 98, she's got the potential to be the belle of the ball.

She had a classic Georgian look about her, however I envisioned something a little softer, more European in aesthetic. Luckily, I'm married to a man who has no problem with painted brick. Or painted wood. 

A little makeup and she'll be ready for her closeup, Mr. DeMille.

Before, when we purchased the house, in all of her original 1915 red brick glory. To the far left is the sunroom. Far right is the kitchen.

After, with the addition of paint, shutters, new concrete walkway/steps and about a bazillion boxwood.

A close up of the front door, currently decorated to scare small children.

Before, the living room when we toured the house. The paneled insets had been painted a faux suede effect.

After, a coat of my favorite go-to Benjamin Moore neutral paint color, a mix of antiques combined with mail order finds and the addition of hardwoods to match the rest of the main floor provide a more cohesive look.

The large mirrors are original to the house and have begun to desilver, which I love. The mantle, which I love much less mostly due to its lack of depth, is also original.

Looking back toward the front door and beyond that, the formal dining room.  Also, I'm clearly not a professional photographer.

A preview of our kitchen. Keepin' it real with a teenager's abandoned shoe in the corner and some junk on the windowsill.

I'd love for you to follow my little slice of blogdom and our progress as we transform this house into our idea of home. There's a lot more to show. 

Who says you can't be a debutante at 98?