I’ve always been intrigued by things in other peoples homes. Not the items that they want you to notice. Not their accent throw pillows…..the seasonal scented candles….the “good” guest towels in the powder room. Those are pedestrian with no real connection to the humans that dwell within the walls. I want to see the crochet blanket grandma gave you when you left for college. The shelf your brother made in community college shop class that you couldn’t bear to donate. The cast iron Dutch oven you keep on your stovetop that you’ve only used a few time but the sight of it comforts you when you walk past it.
It’s commonly referred to as dopamine decor. It’s not on trend and exists only for a you. Your it’s only audience. You’ve explained to family and friends why the creepy lamp in your entryway table makes you feel at home but they can’t quite see the intrinsic value. Who cares? The lamp belongs to you and you alone. Maybe you found it an estate sale or perhaps it beckoned you from a thrift shop shelf. The attraction was immediate and, dare I say, mutual. To hell with the naysayers. The lamp holds a special place the need for explanation is not important.
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