Saturday, November 8, 2014

My Pinky Beige Nightmare

There are only a few things I don't like about our new house:

1. The toilets.

2. The street name. Phonetically, I love it. Unfortunately, it's spelled like a Utah baby name. I won't tell you the whole street name (because creepy internet), but it includes the word "Peper." That's right--pepper without the double p. According to neighbors, the pronunciation is still that of "pepper," though.

The first time I saw it I thought the listing realtor had made a typo. What else could explain such an awful spelling of a perfectly good spice? It's not even a well-known European spelling, which would at least lend some posh snobbery along with any confusion. Apparently it could be "pepper" in Dutch, but I don't think the neighborhood development company employee in charge of picking street names had this in mind. I think they were smoking the pepper, if you know what I mean. Now I will be doomed to spelling it out and explaining that it's "pepper with one p" (even though there are still two p's). On top of my rare first name (wait, Timber?) and problematically-spelled surname (Albrechtsen), I estimate I spend 30 percent more time on the phone with customer service people. Crisis.

3. The interior paint color. Like any self-respecting young, modern, super-hip homeowner of the 21st century, I would have preferred exposed brick, or at least whitewashed reclaimed wood paneling upcycled from the local organic rhubarb farm. I got pinky beige instead.

Your computer screen probably doesn't capture the pinky beigeness properly ... mine sure doesn't.

Obviously, it was not a deal-breaker. We bought the house, and in the morning light the living room actually has a nice glow, reminiscent of a Band-Aid before it collects gunk around the edges and finally falls off at the park where a toddler will find it and try to eat it.

It is not intrinsically an awful color. The problem is that pinky beige does not play well with other colors. Apparently the red undertones (quoting my google-acquired knowledge here) make it unexpectedly clash with a lot of other colors. I found this out when I put my yellow beige sofa in the living room. Who knew beige could clash with beige? Now I know. In my pinky beige living area, my sofa takes on the hue of dijon mustard mixed with cement.

Oh, wonderful Craigslist couch, how you've failed me!

If all the interior design blogs I perused yesterday are to be believed, pinky beige is the leper of the color wheel and the scourge of homeowners across the world. But we don't want to pay to have almost the entire house repainted, and goodness knows I'm not hauling my prego self up a 20-ft ladder to do it, so I must find a way to cope with my "Sensational Sand" walls. The problem is my complete lack of interior decorating knowledge. I have no weapons to employ against this beige beast. I'm paranoid that even the most innocuous throw pillow will take on a vengeful hue when placed against this background. It seems my walls are about as neutral as Nancy Grace.

If pinky beige were a human, this is what its face would look like.

Help me! What color rug should I get? What about the dirty mustard sofa? Does black clash with pinky beige? I have no idea what I'm doing.

When my inability to make intelligent interior design decisions proves lethal, please drape my casket in a pinky beige pall in my final display of surrender, and ask Design Mom to speak at my funeral.
This post will be included in the Urban Compass Starter Stories project, a collection of tales about first homes, fresh starts, and housing adventures. Visit to drool over real estate listings for New York City apartments way more hip than my house (though probably smaller---point for suburbia!).

1 comment:

  1. Maybe let Graham and Ruby at the walls and have them splatter paint. That was so hip in the nineties, so you could retro it back now. Make sure they splatter some Dijon mustard color and then your couch is tied in perfectly


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