For starters, I’ve been really busy over the last three decades – a family to care for, a career that clocked-in a lot of 18 hour days, volunteer work and the persistent thought that at some point I could tear the whole room down and start from scratch. The shelf liner wouldn’t matter because it would be tossed into the abyss with the rest of the 1970s.
Now that I’m on sabbatical, I’m looking at every page of kitchen inspiration in magazines and books. Even dog-eared relics in my 'wish notebook' are getting a second look.
I'm smitten by the rustic elegance of this
dramatic kitchen
|
Not to mention that I now find myself watching every movie scene from a design perspective – memorizing appealing kitchens like the simple, utilitarian one above from the film It's Complicated.
Despite all of my efforts, I cannot find one picture anywhere of a cabinet’s innards? Not in photos, not on film. Maybe everyone feels like I do about what lurks in those cupboards. Although I want you to feel at home when visiting my house (“help yourself to anything you need,”) you are very likely to hear me say, “Let me get that for you,” if you are going anywhere near one of my kitchen cabinet doors. I shutter to think at the prospect.
We're all pretty atuned to what's current in countertop surfaces and appliance colors, but how are we to know what’s in and what’s passé in shelf liner without designer guidance in this matter of taste? Should our liners have a nature pattern considering the greening of our lifestyle, and does that bring with it an obligation to buy something made from sustainable or recycled materials? I must admit that I'm a little verklempt.
While my outdated liner unknowingly whiles away most of its time in darkness, I’ll be on the lookout for some sweet new number to take its place. Even if I don’t get my dream kitchen, I’ll have spanking new paper to give comfort to my plates and bowls – and spare me from any embarrasement should you come over and take a peek.