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