Sunday, July 02, 2006

Domestic Bliss

Despite not being initiated into the wonderful world of household chores until late into my teens, right now I am happily suffering from this inexplicable fondness for domesticity.

This affliction has been slowly invading my head, starting very modestly with innocent infatuations with the home furnishing paradises of Habitat and Ikea, and then on to home improvement reality TV shows.

My foray into flowers started by my stealing daffodils from the dormitory garden. Nothing declares the arrival of springtime like a bright windowsill of jam jars full of yellow daffodils. A sight that gladdens the heart indeed and worth risking the wrath of any gardener, even.

Then I witnessed the magic weaved by my ex-colleagues who were the wizards of visual merchandising. Give them a few tired blossoms and a bush of dried twigs and voila! The mess has into a masterpiece that people would actually pay money for.

So that now that I actually have the space at my new apartment, the endless possibility of decorating it has me hyperventilating. I conjure up these amazing colour schemes (complete with silk flowers and kitch vases even) and work myself into a frenzy everytime I step into a fabric store. Of course everything comes crashing down the moment I peek into my bank balance. Yet if there is one thing I have learnt from my visual merchandising chums is that one does not need expensive stuff to make a place feel like a home and with patience bargains are usually found.

And in my hunt for fabric, I discovered that cloth shops do sell leftover cloth at a fraction of their original prices. Being remainders, their odd lengths make them difficult to sell, hence their marked down prices. That was how I ended up with more than 5 meters of top quality cloth for just RM30! Absolutely Brilliant!

Next I will be shopping for matching curtains and then suitable silk flowers.

So there Ladies and Gentlemen, my transformation into a homebody Aunty is now complete.

This fact is reiterated again this afternoon when I went to Ikea with this gay buddy of mine. He is my age and all the while he was checking the delectable young men in the crowd, I was by far more engrossed in dish racks and teapots. It just struck me how I would love to be working for Martha Stewart.

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