One of the first things my boyfriend and I bonded over was our love of scouring thrift and antique stores. I love sharing the joy of an exciting find with him. But our favorites don’t always line up, so when we moved in together, I had to learn to accept some of his style choices. (Let’s be honest: This is a work in progress.)
Because I bought my home, moving in together meant he moved in with me. And therein lies the problem. We have lived together for a year and a half, and I still have to correct Andrew when he says “your place.” It’s our home, but maybe he’s right, it will always be my house. So until our life plan brings us to a new home that can be our house, we have to make do.
I began, of course, by clearing out my closet. As a fangirl of organization and an aspiring minimalist, I actually enjoyed sorting through my closet and clearing out half the space for him. In the end, he chose to take the hall closet instead. He did, however, accept my offer of half the dresser drawers (our room does not have space for two dressers).
We also tried to begin combining “stuff.” Instead of my camping stuff and his, we store all of our camping gear in one place. After decorating for our first Christmas together, we packed all of the ornaments together, despite whose collections they came from, and so on.
With freshly painted walls and a limited redecorating budget, we weren’t about to completely change the living room, which is the bulk of our common space, but we did take most of the wall hangings down and re-plan the art together. When we replaced my TV with Andrew’s larger set, it was clear we’d need to address the gallery wall I had designed around my smaller screen. Since the set of wall hangings featured paintings from my travels and personal manifestos like “Uteruses Before Duderuses,” I suppose this was also a good way to make Andrew feel more welcome. This duderus comes first. We landed on re-framing a print Andrew brought from his home and scouring Etsy together for two similar prints. Slowly, we acquired more decor for the common spaces that we selected together.
1 of 2
We took down the feminine, personal gallery wall behind my TV and chose framed prints for our new home together (next photo). (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
2 of 2
We took down the feminine, personal gallery wall behind my TV (previous photo) and chose framed prints for our new home together. (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
Sometimes we find art and accessories that call to both of us. Those additions to our home are easy. And I love that Andrew has his own opinions and tastes about spaces and objects. It is not my goal to be that significant other who dictates the entirety of the home. But Andrew’s tastes can lean a little, er, how do I put this? … tacky. He loves anything patriotic. I mean loves himself some campy ’70s Americana, and not in a trendy way. I adore seeing how excited Andrew can get about the most ridiculous finds. Bringing them into our home, however, is another story.
Once, we stopped at the Virginia Bazaar to look around on the way home from a trip, and we had it out over a wolf lamp. When we approached this booth, I knew I was in trouble. Rows and rows of brass lamps supported shades with multiple panels. Each panel was filled with the same wildlife photograph. Imagine a beautiful NatGeo-esque image of a bear catching a fish, but superimposed eight times in a row on an octagonal lamp shade. There were eagles and foxes and, oh, the wolves! You know those ’80s howling-wolf T-shirts that hipsters wear ironically? Well, Andrew wanted to basically turn our home into that ironic hipster. Call me dramatic, but this one find I could not live with. I knew I would cringe daily at the sight of the monstrosity. I had to draw the line.
We did go home with a few compromises from the booth. Andrew found a figurine of an eagle next to an eagle inside a snow globe that he had to have. I still don’t get it, but it was small enough that I could live with it. To my dismay, the woman ringing us up threw in some freebies — a dolphin toothpick holder and four wildlife photo coasters. I guess I got what I deserved.
Andrew found this eagle bell on another picking adventure. While I encouraged the purchase, I also encouraged its installation outdoors on our shed. (Photo by Andrew Ray)
I like to think that Andrew’s style has made it into our home in a few ways. A wooden tiki bar sign from his college days complements a string art piece I made for our sunroom. A lamp stand of wooden paddles holds a shade fringed in rope in the corner of that room. His record player sits on top of an old TV stand we gutted and repurposed together to store and illuminate his records. I even surprised him once by picking up an eagle lamp at an auction, but I ruined it by trying to spray paint it gold. (Anyone know how to remove spray paint from bronze?) In fact, combining our styles has actually taught me — and this I'm still learning — to let up a little and not take myself so seriously. I am an imaginative, fun-loving and, at times, downright goofy person, so why not let my house be some of those things, too?
After moving in together, we restyled our mantel as an eclectic hodgepodge of both of our personalities, anchored by an imagined (Photoshopped) Victorian painting of ourselves. See "learning to let loose and not take myself so seriously." (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
Despite these efforts, I understand why this house will always feel a little more like mine than his. I was the one who walked through its carpeted, wallpapered, outdated shell and envisioned a life. And as much as we can try to reimagine that plan as a unit, it began as a solo project.
That’s why there’s something about the prospect of starting from the beginning together someday that excites us. Would there be disagreements? Yes. Would I have to quiet my super-excitable inner aspiring amateur designer to listen to Andrew’s ideas? Yes. But it’s an adventure we anticipate eagerly. No, this is not the preface to some grand announcement. We are happily shacked up for now in my house, our home.
