As I was leaving New York I caught the news headlines at the airport. Seven people were injured in a riot at Folsom Prison, New York - perhaps they're finally sick of drinking that yeller water?
At three I turned my bunk bed into a boat with the ladder forming a bridge down to the 'sand'. At five I took a pot of typing correction fluid and started repainting my 1970s era orange dolls' house a crisp Hampton's inspired white. Unfortunately I only got one strip painted before I was discovered.
At eleven I gleefully watched my mother sew billowy Austrian blinds in Laura Ashley lavender and green fabric for my own room.
By fourteen I hated that frou-frou bedroom, so much that I used my own pocket money to buy a blue stripped doona cover.
At 17 I sponge-effect painted my walls a pale retro blue. Nobody would help me so it ended up blotchy in the corners, and my folks paid a real painter to fix it.
For as long as I can remember I've loved to decorate and reimagine my space. I love architecture and interiors. I love scatter cushions and rugs and bedspreads and upholstery... that's why I grew up to be a pen-pushing public servant. But despite this 'beige cardigan' I have a serious addiction to design. This week I bought a house (SQUEAL)- a brand new blank canvas. And my head is already spinning with ideas about how to make this space - ONE COOL HOUSE.
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