Tales from a Retired Decorator

Hello folks, let’s chat…I should be working, decorating, shopping or cooking. Instead I’ve been laughing at Christmas fails on Pinterest. Sue me, but I like to laugh and Pinterest has some hilarious pictures submitted by wanna be Martha Stewarts whose decorating dreams crash and burn faster than you can say, “Call the fire department.”

Startled-Rudolf

Oh, please. Don’t be so politically correct. It’s a kill joy. Besides, I’m laughing with them, not at them. I mean, if I may say so, I’m a fairly decent decorator, but I’ve had my share of mistakes trying to replicate something I’ve seen from the professionals, too. Their ideas don’t always translate well in real life.

By way of illustration I give you the following story from my young friend Dasha, a hard-working wife and mother of three who freely admits to having zero skills in the decorating department. Dasha shared her decorating fail with us last night at a girl-party. I wish you could hear it with her dead pan delivery, but I’ll do my best to recap.

One Christmas season, several years ago, Dasha found a picture in a decorating magazine of something the experts would call a doable afternoon project. The charming scene showed a beautiful centerpiece featuring a log, some greenery, and tiny tea lights. “Well, now,” Dasha thought to herself, “I got tree limbs in my yard. How hard can this be?”

Side note? My experience has been that the answer to this question is usually “harder than you might think.”

Dasha was right proud of her efforts, too, until her husband came home and asked her why there was a limb on the coffee table. Dasha showed him the magazine picture and explained that it was a decoration. She was already miffed that he had to ask when her man started laughing. Actually, Dasha said that before it was over everyone in her family laughed at her doable afternoon project. Out loud.

God love her, Dasha said that was her last decorating project. I get that. But I still wish she would’ve snapped a picture before she retired.

Hugs, Shellie