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| By Rosanna's eldest daughter, Alessandra Wollner |
A few weeks ago I wrote a post called Nesting: Part 1. It explored the experience of setting up house in one’s first “Big Girl Home,” paying special attention to the magic formula that makes a house a home.
The recipe, I’ve found, is endlessly adaptable and more than amenable to improvisation.
I discover new ingredients every day. The best part is that these ingredients show me how to combine them so that together, their contributions make this new home sing.
Here are some words to describe what I’m talking about:
Sleepover Magic
I want to live in a space where guests feel supremely comfortable. In fact, my secret goal is to make them feel so comfortable they never want to leave. When guests end up feeling that good you know what happens next—sleepovers!
Making people feel welcome is a priority. Having a place to put them is an imperative. I don’t have a guestroom yet. Somehow, that never seems to deter our friends from bunking down. Besides, extra sleeping accommodations that are finagled rather than formal seem like much more fun to me. To arrange your own ad hoc sleeping arrangements, consider buying one of the following:
Sleeping bag and inflatable camping pad
Air mattress
Futon
Extra-wide couch
Fold-out couch
Each space asks for a different approach. It depends on the room and furniture you have to work with. Extra sleeping space in Magic House came to us in the form of a large, overstuffed green couch from our local second hand store. Like the house, the couch is magic. It’s so inviting that to look at it is to hear it issuing its sole command:
“NAP ON ME. NOW.”
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| Magic House, meet Magic Couch |
Dishes For The Masses
Always have enough dishes to set the table for a crowd. Being the daughter of a dinnerware designer and therefore guaranteed free dinnerware for life, telling other people to make sure they have enough dishes might be a little insensitive. Let me qualify that statement:
Having lots of dishes doesn’t mean owning 20 identical place settings down to the fish forks. Just make sure you have enough surfaces for people to eat off of. Mismatched settings don’t have to be a last resort. It can very easily look deliberate. In fact, my favorite dining room aesthetic is mismatched vintage silverware. Making your own set is a simple matter or rescuing it from your local junk shop and investing in a jar of silver polish.
Also, make sure to have a collection of real dinnerware—ceramic, porcelain, melamine, or bamboo—whatever. It may look like a hodgepodge in the cabinet, but once the table is set, it won’t make a difference if not a single plate matches. You’ll be surprised how far a little intentionality can go.
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| I like mismatched silverware. |
Systematize Your Sounds
iHome, subwoofers, floor speakers—do it an way you want, so long as it amplifies sound.
Like ambient lighting and original art, audible music plays a crucial role in the creation of an atmosphere. While you’re at it, whip up a handful of go-to playlists for different kinds of gatherings—brunch/drinks/dinner party/partyparty/outdoor picnic/teatime/late night rendez-vous.
Bring the World Home.
I spent 1/3 of last summer in Morocco. While there, I sat on the ground a lot. I loved the laid-back feeling of Moroccan floor seating. Sitting on the floor instantly makes thing less formal, more egalitarian, and a little sillier. After traveling through Morocco, an incredible, fulfilling, and profoundly educational experience for me, I knew I wanted floor seating in my home.
Let the world make impressions on you. We’re all just little lumps of clay waiting to be shaped by our experiences, right? Create a living space that incorporates the places, people, and adventures that have impacted you. This is what makes us who we are. Keeping them in front of your face, and part of your daily life can become a potent reminder of selfhood.
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| My sendup to Moroccan floor seating |
I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I wrote Nesting: Part 1 I was a little cuckoo. Completely in the clutches of homemaking-mania. Fortunately, an enforced nesting hiatus due to a trip to Seattle gave me some valuable perspective on process.
Before the holidays, I was running around like a frantic squirrel to secure every single solitary element that would transform this naked space into Magic House. I toggled between hunting down the vintage typewriter I’ve been fantasizing about to securing a decent-looking kitchen table (both of which, by the way, we still don’t have). I was Veruca Salt from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory; I wanted it all and I wanted it now.
By the time I left for Seattle, we had most of the basics—a couch, a coffee table, beds, ambient lighting, towels, pots and pans. Wine glasses. Like I said, the basics. As I looked around at what we had accomplished, this Something we had already whipped up out of Nothing, I thought, “For now, this is enough. More than enough, it’s good.”
There comes a moment in moving when it’s time to stop pushing. We have entered that phase. Now that the sundries are all here, it’s time to allow our home grow into itself on its own terms and time frame.
I still have dreams about how Magic House will eventually look. And make no mistakes—we will find that typewriter. Someday.
For now though, what we have is more than enough. In fact, for now it’s perfect.
And guess what?
It feels like home.
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| Me and Patrick, my lovely friend and roommate |
