When our meeting wraps up, I jump into my car. I am going to need help. I take a deep breath, reapply my lipstick, devour my emergency stash, barely minding the grossly substandard ingredients.
Now say the words construction, remodel, renovation, demolition and I am completely enthusiastic and calm. I know my way around this scenario. I feel confident and excited. I know it makes no sense to most, and I can not explain it except to say I have not been in a relationship with yellow since I said goodbye to my yellow and white daisy bedspread when I was about ten.
As an adult, I can only assume when French Country decorating became very popular, I decided the pairing of yellow and blue was something I disliked. Granted, I've realized over time that it had more to do with the saturated nature of the colors and bold patterns which they accompanied. But even with this understanding, the combination went into my archives labeled as colors I don't like. I also never wear yellow.
I've started the arduous process of searching out fabrics, paint samples, possibly wallpaper in that foreign land called yellow. Oh, these are really pretty and I love houndstooth...but what else to combine it with?
Again, anxiety. So I reached for more fortification. And, by now my fingers are too sticky to do anything, including wrap the little gift on my desk intended to humor a friend.
Images courtesy of A&A, Google, Williams-Somoma