Spendless Splendour
I hate it as much as the next Shopaholic, Dolls, but money is the way of the world. To have nice things, we need a nice paycheck. Luckily, in this same world, we can be dreamers or have our dreams come true. Dolls, my fashion & design dreams that I desire to come true are extravagant, yet simple and entirely to die for.
I've always loved writing. To me, allowing the random assimilation of words to become a profoundly beautiful sentence is one of the most remarkable skills that humankind can perform. In my dream space, a designated writing area is essential. It has to be a space overlooking or surrounded by nature so that there can be a constant flurry of inspiration from the living world. It would be a space where honeybees fly, flowers bloom, waves roll or trees sing. I'd position an antique wooden desk at the heart of it, allowing the space to become magical, co-existing with the harmony of nature.
The people closest to me know that my favourite time of day is bedtime. They also know that I have an evil alter-ego that exists if I'm awake before my wake-up call of 9 am. I love my job, I love experiencing life and I love my family home but there is something about the peacefulness of sleep, the sweet ten hours of uninterrupted me time and silence that makes me feel wonderfully calm, content and safe. Therefore, my bed always appears comforting, welcoming and stylish. It's important to me that I shed some extra TLC into my covers... After all, our love must remain a mutual one. If money was no issue, I'd have the biggest bed they make, which is a four-poster bed. I'd have the most luxurious, light and soft pillow, sheet and duvet set. I'd have curtains draping across my four posts, so as to shelter me from the outside world. I'd have my bed in the centre of a large, open room with French windows, a Persian rug and a vanity. Dorothy said: 'There's no place like home' but when I tap my ruby slippers together, I chant: 'There's no place like bed.'
Some people feel closely attached to inanimate objects, whether it's because they're expensive or of sentimental value. I am not one of those people. I'm one of those people who are closely attached to the nostalgia of memories, the scent of a person or the atmosphere of a space. That was until I developed OCD and anorexia. I became infatuated with having the perfect cutlery, cup and bowl. Usually, the reason was because the food appeared less daunting when it was presented in a certain way or I liked the way it felt as it slid off the surface and into my mouth. It began to be a soothing coping mechanism for a distressing task. I found additional pleasure within these kitchen items considering my mum is a talented potter. She'd come home with the most beautiful cookware that was designed with spirals and leaves and coloured with burnt orange, olive green or indigo. They acted as my source of grounding and security amidst an eternal storm.
Dolls, I can't spend more than a few hours with people due to my introversion. It isn't at all a reflection of whether or not I like someone. Being around anyone for too long makes me irritable, exhausted and self-conscious. Except for the few, special Shopaholics in my world who I could spend countless hours talking about everything, talking about nothing and all that is in between. I get excited for the moments when those people and I have the time to gather in the same place, with nowhere else to be because we have the most interesting, funny and honest conversations. It's never on the couch because we just end up choosing to watch a movie, so for me, if money was no issue, the dining room and the dining room table would be an area that I'd make an immense effort to appear open, inviting and stylish. I'd have comfortable chairs so that nobody would want to leave. I'd have a vintage table, intricately embellished, carved and painted. I'd have an elaborate lighting system and various candles with aromas of vanilla, nutmeg and rum to evoke a charismatic, gentle, sexy mood. In addition, I'd like a record player to produce the sound so that we could listen to funk and jazz.
Dolls, the space of my dreams is a beautiful place to be. It's a space that is soothing, accepting and charming. I'm a dreamer, Dolls, and when all of my dreams come true, you'll find me smiling in my dining room with my family, drinking pinot noir and listening to Louis Armstrong before I get tucked into my bed at night beneath my goose feather duvet and my emerald embroidered quilt.
Kisses,
COS x
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