One of the perks of buying a new-build property is the blank canvas you can move your furniture straight into, and it will just work. No drama. No issues. You breathe a sigh of relief that all your belongings just look good.
But you can only live with white walls for so long.
The blank canvas soon becomes a little…too plain. The novelty of the ease of a new-build starts to wear off and flashes of colour start to dart across your imagination. A bit of green here; a splash of mauve there. But when you take your first trip to Homebase and see how expensive a tin of paint actually is, your pockets start to rein in your plans and you realise your ambitions need prioritising one room at a time.
For me, it was an easy decision. The bathroom was top of the list. A (far too) small room making it an achievable first project and I had to do something with the grey tiles. I H-A-T-E those grey tiles.
There was yet another barrier to overcome, my partner. A man of very traditional tastes, anything slightly loud or exuberant and he completely shuts down to the idea. Of course, he did not understand my irrational hatred for such an inoffensive bathroom colour scheme, but he thought better than to question me on my sentiment. Before he had chance to speak, I had already made up my mind about what I wanted. “Moroccan!” I cried. “I want a Moroccan bathroom!” I could see it all so clearly. Warm, terracotta walls that brought the warmth of the Mediterranean right to your home, dark wooden skirting boards, shelving and towel rails to bring in a little depth, and a hint of blue and green in some house plants, ornaments and a bohemian-style woven bathmat (costing me £16 and of no practical use whatsoever).
Before my partner could stop me, I rushed to B&Q hoping for some cheaper tins of paint. I picked out a warm, rustic orange for the walls and ice blue (almost white) for some balance. Kitchen and bathroom variety? Excellent. Did I want to buy tester pots? Absolutely not. Of course my choices would work; my design was flawless. I took my two tins of £25 paint home and itched to get it on the walls.
As my partner was not-so-secretly against the idea of a terracotta bathroom, he made no effort whatsoever to paint within a short space of time. So, I waited for good-old Dad to come and visit and help. And Dad would just paint; no question of whether I’d made the right decision or not.
He opened the lid of terracotta. A bit bright. It’s fine, these things always dry differently to how they look in the tin. Dad paints his first strip of orange down the walls. Oh, the satisfaction to see that white disappear. As the bathroom was so small I left Dad to his work and carried on with some errands downstairs. A few hours later, I had the call to say it was ready.
Oh, dear God.
The orange was far from terracotta. It was like a primary school pupil had smeared orange poster paint across the wall. The ice blue was just…blue, creating the most awful contrast with the sickening orange. The white toilet, sink and shower looked clinically bright, and the grey tiles were even more hideous than I remembered. It was a disaster, an absolute mess and one I would have to show my partner at some point.
He was, quite rightly, speechless. But I could not admit I had been wrong. £50 down I had to roll with it. “It just needs some adjustment and some ornaments, you’ll see”.
The bathroom was left for another two months. Every morning, it was the big orange elephant in the room. I didn’t want to admit I was wrong and he didn’t want to tell me my colour choice was the worst decision I had ever made. We just ignored it until one of us caved in first.
The conversation finally came one night over dinner. “I’m just thinking about the bathroom,” my partner said cautiously. There was an eerie silence as I stopped clattering my cutlery around my plate. “I’m just wondering whether it’s…the right thing?” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh my God, you hate it too?!” I cried joyfully. The weight had been lifted and the orange elephant booted out the room. A few tester pots later and a whole lot of Pinterest searching, we finally settled on a colour.
It has been a year since the orange ordeal, and my partner is yet to let me forget the bad choices I made. Orange has now been banned from the rest of the house, unless accompanied by example images and tester pots, and every room we discuss painting is met with the comment, “How about a nice poster paint orange?” Yes, I was hasty. Yes, I rushed my choice. But let’s be honest, I have never been any different. Sometimes you have to let certain ideas go, based on the room you actually have, not force a design on something that isn’t going to work.
What are your home design disasters? Feel free to share below.
Image Credits: Daisy Thomas .