A Room of Her Own

I am a woman who supports women. I think women are amazing and I meet remarkable women every day at Design Alliance. Women who are loving wives, nurturing mothers and successful Interior Designers—multi-tasking at its finest.

During my design years I was invited into the homes of many remarkable women, interesting women who spent their days orchestrating the family lifestyle. It was not uncommon for these selfless women to abandon their own dreams to become the support system for their family, while their own talents and inspirations went dormant.

Sally was a client like that. Adorable, petite and gregarious, she had raised four boys (three offspring and one husband). Her youngest son, 28, had moved out about a year ago and Sally was ready to make some changes when I was called in to consult on a kitchen remodel.

I was oblivious to what lay ahead when I arrived at Sally’s 4/3 Ranch-style home. The garden was pristine, with a dichondra lawn. So mid-century! She was the first on her block to have the beds lined in annuals and hanging baskets flanking the front door. This yard had been lovingly maintained.

When Sally answered the door she was pure sugar ‘n spice, with a slight Texas drawl, a corona of platinum hair, sporting a pink top, mint green capris and white mules with three-inch heels that click/slapped as she walked. She invited me in to meet her house. It was not so colorful. This was a home that had survived 32 years of growing testosterone. It was a war zone where nary a surface had been spared the blows of boys in a brawl.

Sally then led me to the main event, the kitchen. When I saw the space I think I bowed my head and said a few words. This room had the pale, marred face of a healing accident victim… a boot toe dent in the refrigerator door, a dozen cracks in the counter tile, a pock marked vinyl floor and the oven door askew. I looked at little Sally and wondered how she came out unscathed!

I then started to take a few cabinet measurements when I opened the door to the broom closet and discovered stacks of cookbooks, maybe 40 or 50, on the floor.

“Sally what’s this?” I questioned, pointing to the piles.

“Oh, my cookbooks,” she said. “I love to bake. My mincemeat has won two ribbons,” she proudly stated.

“Wow!” I eloquently exclaimed. “Don’t let me forget to build you a bookcase above the desk I’m planning to replace your end-of-the-counter ‘phone center’ with!”

“Oh!” Sally squealed. “That will be lovely!”

As Sally and I toured the rest of the house, she spoke lovingly of her boys and husband Bud. I learned she met Bud in college, had received her Masters in Fine Arts and had minored in dance, with dreams to join a company. At night she would sit with Bud in front of the BIG SCREEN and knit blankets for the local shelter. She pulled a plastic bag from under the sofa to show me. I saw how they had turned her middle son’s room into an office for Bud and her youngest son’s room into a gym for Bud. Sally got her oldest son’s room.

“I’d like to see your room Sally,” I stated.

“But it’s such a mess,” she complained.

“I’ll try not to notice, lead the way!” I said, standing strong.  

She apologized over and over as we approached, then she opened the door and announced, “We call it the “Junk Room.”

I peered in and nodded, “Quintessential!”  And it was. There was a 6’ slider looking out on the pool, a missing closet door, piles of clothes, papers and books, an ironing board, a card table holding a small laptop, a sewing machine and an easel, set up over a laundry basket, supporting a painting in progress. I made some mental notes.

On the drive home I thought about Sally and how talented she is, as a gardener, baker, knitter, seamstress, artist and dancer. I thought about her passion to be creative and what joy it brought her, yet day-to-day she would hide her self-expression in the shadows, amongst the clutter of the “junk room,” in the broom closet, or under the sofa to gladly attend to her family’s needs. My next thought was that this is not a project JUST about this deserving woman’s battered kitchen. Frankly anything I did to that interior would be an improvement. This is “My Brilliant Idea” project!

So I designed the kitchen, drafted plans, compiled my samples and collected the appliance literature for my remodel presentation. Then, without solicitation or permission, I started designing Sally’s “Room of Her Own.”

She was in the largest of the three boys’ rooms, 15 feet’x13 feet, with the slider to the backyard. First, I replaced the sliding door with a pair of French doors, widening the casing with 4” molding that led into 4” base around the room. Then I took off the remaining closet door and designed a sewing area in one third of closet cavity with a permanent surface for her machine, lighting and her chair.  The remaining two thirds of the closet became customized storage, with stand-up canvas storage, basket bins for fabric, cubbies for her yarn skeins and drawers and cabinets for all her painting supplies.

I painted the room a beautiful soft pink/salmon and the moldings and French doors a pristine white. I set her easel near the window and added a stool. On the main wall I put a built-in daybed with bolsters on three sides and a ridiculous number of accent pillows. I set a distressed mint green end table with aqua lamp next to a comfy down club chair in a “Sister Parrish” cotton floral.

I added a small flat screen TV on the wall, an iPod for music and an additional book case for her favorite books and pictures of the beasty boys. I imagined the floor underneath the carpet would be hardwood, so the carpet came up and a soft, fluffy, area rug defined the seating area. It was scary-girly, void of boys. It smelled like a girl, all pink and flowery and lacy, full of cuteness and sweetness, fresh and beautiful… just like Sally.

Sally was over-the-moon excited about the idea and Bud footed the bill, as well he should.  A Room of Her Own was a big success for this altruistic, would-be ballerina and for me, it was an idea I applied four more times over the years—for a writer, a collector, an editor and a die-hard crafter.

These ardent women were easy to spot: dedicated, selfless and passionate about all that they do. Women like this may cross your path—deserving women who need a place to be with self. Maybe it is just a corner where you create custom storage, or a surface to draft or draw, a chair and lamp in which to read, a potting bench in the yard or a mirrored wall and a ballet bar—it’s just for them. Women, who in spite of all their creative suppression over the years, still have a sense of wonder and imagination with an ongoing need to create their vision… whatever it might be.