I also subscribe to one magazine, and one magazine only (Better Homes & Gardens), and that is only because the one-year subscription was free with a cookbook I bought for my brother. I figured he didn’t want the subscription, so now I ogle photos of paint palettes, backyard makeovers, and kitchen renovations.
I had one of those dumb epiphanies the other day (oxymoron much?): all these photos of beautiful rooms in beautiful houses aren’t real. Not only not real, but blatantly false. Staged. Faked.
My living room, with the coffee table pushed out of the way to better facilitate running and jumping on the couch
You cannot have a “perfect” body and live your life. You start out “imperfect” and then get more so. You get old, you have children, you get injured, you work… Were I to be given a choice between a model’s body and the one that has borne children, climbed mountains, and danced on bars, I would not hesitate to choose the body I have now.
The body that did this
Houses are the same. If you live in them, they can never look like the magazine spreads or the Pinterest pins. Children have toys. Dogs have fur. Food gets spilled. The mail has to be put somewhere to be sorted. I use many pots and pans and cutting boards when I cook. We have coats and shoes at the front door.
The front door and the coat/shoe closet
I know it’s not glamorous and maybe would be tough on photographers to frame or pose or whatever, but I do wish that magazines would show normal, lived-in, loved-in houses every once in awhile. I want things to look nice, too, but I can’t see a world in which we don’t have too much stuff for a too-small house, toys and kid stuff strewn everywhere, and a buildup of junk on the countertops.
The basement, home of dog blankets, the television, and play-doh
The other side of the basement, our “office” space
I know I can’t change the magazines. I can’t make them show a comfortable, cluttered, loved house any more than I can convince them to use models who are a size 10 with a baby pooch and the post-30 upper-arm wings. But I can show you, and maybe you can feel better about how loved and lived in your house is.
My kitchen, and the island that is only ever clear when the housekeeper pushes everything into a pile to clean the countertop.
And isn’t my house beautiful? People live here. Meals are made and eaten here. Little boys and dogs play here. A family loves here.