Colourless
By ivoryfishbone
- 2759 reads
On September the 13th 2004 I painted my front door pink.
I remember it - http://abctales.com/node/538670 - I wrote about it.
Today I painted my front door a sensible colour. A greyish greenish stylish shade. I feel depressed about it.
People don't buy houses with bright pink doors. People buy houses with sensible stylish contemporary doors.
I was just finishing painting it at around the time everyone arrived home and we more or less had a funeral in the street. The neighbours with long faces. A couple of them agreed it looked smaller.
I think it is less brave, less honest. Like the interior which has turned over the last year as neutral as can be - no colour left - as though the character and personality have leeched out.
We are drawing in. Gathering. Preparing to move on. Pink doors were symbolic of a freedom, they go along with VW campers and taking lovers. A thing of the past.
My hot pink (Salsa!) bedroom with the orange woodwork and yellow ceiling is Wheatgrass with Cream White ceilings and Pure Brilliant White wood. My bright red hall is white, my pea green bathroom, white - my rich blue kitchen - you guessed it.
The rugs are furled, the knick knacks stored, the table bare.
I never ever thought I would even think of buying a table runner.
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Comments
Oh wow, I remember it first
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Nice piece. You should send
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I wish the pink door or
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This strikes a real chord -
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This is great - I do like
LauraW
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Not surprised that this got
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Update ...
My son now lives in this house, the door is still grey. People in the street still remember the pink door I am happy to say and I am back in the town living in a narrowboat as my son and his wife are expecting their first baby - the baby will live in that house where my daughter was born.
Some of the grey paint is a little bit chipped so you can see the pink peeping through. You can never wholly disguise who you are or were and this makes me happy x
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