The Godzilla of all beds is *finally* going down.

While I was pregnant lots of stuff got all out of whack. My body. My emotions. My ability to remember things. Aaaand, the topic of today’s post: my (furniture) decision making skills. They became disastrous.

I decided that bigger was better.

I decided to buy a huge crib for the nursery, when a smaller one would have been so. much. more fitting for the tiny room.

I decided I hated our bed frame. (Which, looking back, is just like whaaaa? It was a perfectly fine dark wood shutter headboard & frame from Crate & Barrel.) I gave it to my mom for her guest room. Because:

At the time, the chicks that were renting our condo broke their lease, claiming that someone had stolen the money they’d put aside for rent (first of all, yeah freaking right), and left their furniture for us in a small way of compensation. It wasn’t all awful. We scored an awesome high dining table and chairs out of it. And a couch that is decent — and definitely better than the behemoth thing we had before. (Which Nelson loved, so shhhh about that last remark.) But we also took two bed frames. And I honestly have NO idea what I was thinking. They are uuuuuugly ducklings — but ones that’ll never turn into swans. For me, anyway. Maybe when we donate them someone else will love them.

One frame is all black with a leatherette, crystal-lined headboard. Ew. Just no. I didn’t even like it really when we took it, but for some stupid reason I thought it’d be better than the dinky metal frame we had in the guest room. Nope.

Then there’s this beast. The four poster frame we replaced our old (way better) frame with. It’s monstrous. I mean, look:

(Ignore the rest of the room please. There is much work needed! More on that in a near-future post…)

Hello. We have a low bedroom ceiling. This big-ass mofo does not work here at all. But I honestly wouldn’t like it even if we had a super high ceiling. It’s just not my style at all. (The picture doesn’t do justice to the ornate carvings at the tops of the posts or the carved seashell thing at the top of the headboard. Which I’ve hated more and more with each passing day.)

Finally, finally, finally, Nelson agreed to let us (me) shop for a new bed frame. And I think I found the one I want. (For now at least. Because, you know, I haven’t made the best furniture decisions recently.)

I knew I wanted something upholstered. I went with an ivory linen headboard because my dressers are dark brown and the walls are tan and I wanted lighter something to brighten the room. And for bedding I’m going with all white. There’s something so relaxing-feeling about an all white bed, I think! Not that I’ve shied away from color in the past, or that I will in the future, but all-white feels like it will be what I want. I ordered a new comforter + cover and new shams in white and ivory. I can’t wait for it all to arrive.

And, and, and? I invested in art for the first time! Like, actual art by an artist. Not some mass-manufactured generic crap you can get at Target or wherever. (Though I do own some of that as well, not gonna lie.) (And these are prints of originals, so I’m sure other people have them, too.) But still, look how pretty:

New Spring, Caroline Wright

A set of abstract prints to go above the bed. I’m in loooooove with them. I love how vivid the colors are, and I think they will place nicely against the rest of the room’s tone. I’ll post again when everything’s in place.


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